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He'd come crashing through your fucking wall in your living room...you wouldn't even know he'd be *crash* "OH YEAH! OH YEAH!"
And the little kids were all excited, "YES! YES!" and then they would drink out of him, after debris fell in his open, dumb head. He'd pour himself, "OH YEAH! OH YEAH!"
Him and his crazy tights. I don't like that. I don't like when juice wears tights. That's a horrible combination, a bowl of juice wearing tights.
Fuck drinking out of him, if that was me I'd be like "No, no, no, you fix that wall before my dad gets home from work. He's gonna beat me with a belt, he's not gonna believe a talking bowl of punch came in here, yous tupid idiot. Yeah, coming through the wall is real fucking cool! USING THE FRONT DOOR IS COOL! Don't touch me you drink! Don't touch me you giant beverage. You are sweating or condensating...I'll kick you in the tights and you will go down, you're very top-heavy. You glass bitch. You glass bastard."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh no!"
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