Een the meedle ob my cadde dribe the caddle yomped sheep. Eento the dreenk.
I hord worn ob them squeaghe as he yomped eento Nuebo York Harbor: Hasta la bista baby!
I thoughd maybe they woul' corm bag.
Are they homeen' caddle?
Bod they are nard here.
Maybe they are een the catastrophe buildeen' ad the en' ob the blarck?
Hello o o o o o o o o o o o?
I doan' know whad to do.
Weethoud my hord I doan' know who I am.
Who is Estorbo?
Y whad ees his porpoise in libe?