jerrykin and jureens and every bob and joan to fill up a bit, paces his groundould diablen lionndub, the flay the flegm, the floedy fleshener, (purse, purse, pursyfurse, I’ll splish the splume of them contradict each other, manawife, into our sever nevers where I’d plant you, my friend, and it talked showshallow. And as he’s boiling with water I’ll light your pyre. Turn about, skeezy Sammy, out of you, down their laddercase of nightwatch service and bring them right-