what are we, said breadroll, me and ye. nowst a pole and then a pile, nowst a wonder and a plunder then. we are a rye, a hog and what sins our smarting than an inert and angstful whatsoever leverage. phoooiy foooo, that’s it. our red arses shine to heavens loke no tomorrow.
he’s got it again, said sponge, blood fat level below acceptable. what shall people think?
that it is time to eat, said block of wood, excessively.