We doth almost
be home, hail!		 Ish getting (hic!)
shore. Shit, Ish
sho shore.		 Thou shall sleep
thine drunken
state off soon.
 
However, I do fear thou art
in for a hellacious morning
of digestive tract purging!		 Lishen. Horsh. We gotsta
talk about yer making my
assh (hic!)  hurt sho mush.
 
I doth not be envying thou tomorrow,
hoh! With thine nefarious, convulsing
stomach and mighty cookie-toss!		 Whysh are you
bouncing around
sho mush, horsh?
 
I doth be happy
to giveth him
yon cold water!		 Thou shouldst splash
it unto him, not force him under it, hail!		 (thump)
HORSH! OW!
 
Horsh! What the fu(hic!)-- fu(hic!) fuck, horsh!
I guess thish makes me drunk off my assh! Hah-hah!
 
Hey, baby. Yoush want to
come back to my plash an--
scr(hic!)-- Bob. Hi. Sh-hit.		 Mine man-boobs doth
not be that big, not even
to thou, drunken bastard.