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Bad Tempered Impostors Crescent 2?
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Be Serious
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*raises handbag*
And exactly when did you start to think that your father was an Angel, you horrible little deviant?
[Sigmund] About the same time as you started getting evil ideas about Seven Sisters, Doc.
And we shall turn this Green Park orange!
That Paisley man's Barking, I tell you. Totally Wimbledon. He's begun to talk in Bold Italic Font size+6. It's only a matter of time before he hits the Shift Lock, and starts using <font color= "weirdlimegreen"> Has to be committed, of course. And the key thrown away, as you'd expect.
[Sigmund] You're a fine one to talk! Someone likes the sound of their own over-educated and over-opinionated voice too much. Investing in property at New Cross Gate.
[Seto] Sounds like you can't tell the difference between Sigmund and Clement. Wapping idiot.
[Sister] Don't be too severe on Seto. My clinical investigations demonstrate that many of my patients cannot tell the difference between a bearded Viennese trick-cyclist and his grandson. We call this condition Bermondsey of the Medulla Oblongata, and sufferers are commonly characterised as Oval.
Fancy a Westminster?
Fach off back to Shepherds Bush.
You want advice? Make an appointment, for Finsbury Park's sake.
Appointments? That's just sooo dark ages. Bit like Warren Street.
WehIyahaanaidawhasganbaIlplaBalhamwahatduhnahin....
Oi, Ozzy. Shut it, or I'll have to send someone round to get Tufnell Park with you.
I now inform you that you are too far from Ruislip.
Oi, Mo! We don't like the telling of lies 'ere. Now 'op off out of it before I put Humpty and Little Bear onto you. And Jemima tells me you've been hanging around talking to toys at South Wimbledon. What's all that about?
[FB] Jemima should mind her own business or she's likely to find herself in Canada Water.
The Lord Of The Understairs has blown his cover. What a dildo. Now then - you bastards have trumped my Plonsky Rebound so I shall retaliate with a sly but carefully aimed Latimer Road leaving you all in Knip. Suckers!
I am hearing a great deal of aggression and suppressed desire to marry your respective mothers and fathers here. The underground system is the ideal sexual allegory, and I see you are all obsessed by the concept of long columnar red or silver cylinders thrusting through dark, warm tunnels interspersed with womb-like stations. Oh, Yes. I strongly advise you all take one of these Oval pills - I'm having one myself.
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