Outragedy of poetscalds! Acomedy of letters! I havethem all, tame, deep and harried, in my mine’s I. And one ofthese fine days, man dear, when the mood is on me, that Imay willhap cut my throat with my tongue tonight but I willbe ormuzd moved to take potlood and introvent it Paatryk justlike a work of merit, mark my words and append to my marktwang, that will open your pucktricker’s ops for you, broatherbrooher, only for, as a papst and an immature and a nayophightand a spaciaman spaciosum and a hundred and eleven other things,I would never for anything take so much trouble of such doing.

Ya se ha enfadado Shaun otra vez! Qué serán esas 111 cosas con las que amenaza?