one of my nostril hairs who are merely the pawns of ...heh heh... the cows ...yeah, yeah, yeah... are telling my location to all those stupid crows so the people never find out about the rotundra. and I know they ...uh... sold their soul to the doctors back at the clinic because they want the whole sack of lies. and, let's just say for now that they are doing the dirty work of those little green cops ...hmmmm... ...heh heh... and, if I know anything, I know that they ...hmmmm... keep sparring with me. ...no, no, no, no... If they find out I know this stuff, I'm dead ...heh heh...
I am not the Milkman. I'm the guard
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Inspired by the original
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