God works in mysterious ways, right now I am of a mind to flagellate a hare with the switch.
To the hare:
Methink thou art a general offence and I would that you were open to incontinency besieged in a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. You are as a candle, the better part burnt out. You should be female and yet your beard forbids me to interpret that you are so.
He didn't seem interested in the topiary.
Perhaps bonsai is more to his taste?
You should be female and yet your beard forbids me to interpret that you are so.
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Yea and verily yea!! He hath illumined us to the bunny's treacherous man-haired face!!
He moved on to sacrifices of first-born, and hasn't found any takers.
We are currently working on a Kirk Douglas-like statue with a large penis.
I call upon all my followers to cast insult on this deserving effigy of a woman. The hare is clearly devilish in nature and..
woah, nice bonsai!
Busy old fool, unruly son! Saucy pedantic wretch! At the round earth's imagined corners blow your trumpet, but mine ear is stopp'd up, and thy scolding is to me as sweet music, and all thy wormwood turn'd to gold!
She hath proclaimed her contemptuous barbs as defensive in nature, but it is fit that I commit offence to my inferiors. What's the matter with this dissentious rogue that, rubbing the poor itch of her opinion, make herself scabs?
O rarely base, do you vex me still? Wiltst thou conjure onto yourself yet more souless villainesses so that I might be forc'd to drink their vapour? Or will thy feeble soul stand firm and hold your ground?
Well! Show up with a bonsai and get all the glory...
And she burned in envy, plotting evil against the bonsai gifter... Her countenence fell.
<scabby? yew.>
Yep. And who you calling feeble, cleftless?
Fret not my child, for if you are virtuous and chaste you shall be beckoned unto the thone of thy lord.
Unto the unamed:
Lady, you are the cruelst she alive, you tread upon my patience for there is neither honesty, manhood or good fellowship in thee. What a wretched and peevish female you are. You are strangely troublesome, on my knee I give heaven thanks that I am not like to thee.
My countenance never fell millimetre!
As for hare-faced, I am a smegging Bunny, you doofai!
Tempt not too much the hatred of my spirit, for I am sick when I do look on thee. I had rather be a toad, and live upon the vapour of a dungeon, than hold further converse with thee. How foul and loathsome is thine presence.
Why? What is with thy crooked knee amiss?
Anyway, upon thy eyeballs murderous Tyranny
Sits in grim majesty to fright the world!
I do believe (induc'd by potent circumstances) that you are mine enemy.
Thy face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames of fire; and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue, and sometimes red; but his nose is executed, and his fire's out.
(he is an ok enough looking chappie, really, except for that)
