They eat all my sauerkraut and dance in my Tabasco sauce. Stupid, stupid monkeys. If those monkeys ever went for my diamond studded jelly donut I'd have to throw a chicken so far up their brains that their tuchises would ache for three days.
I hate them so much I wish they would all get consecutively flushed down a large toilet without getting stuck. Bup bup bup bup! I said WITHOUT getting stuck! Damned monkeys. If I lived on top of a 27-story building, they'd be thrown down there so fast! I'm not even kidding. Those monkeys would be all like "SPLAT! Damn! I'm not a monkey anymore! I'm a splat now, damn!" Boy would their faces be red.
They're gonna drown in that Tabasco sauce. Yeah, that'll do it. Goddamn fart smelling butt rubbing monkeys.
How'd I get these monkeys anyway? Ah, yes distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December. No, no that was when that dirty little raven bastard came here. That punk danced in my Tabasco sauce too. He died. He died real good. He flushed consecutively down the toilet with the monkeys who got stuck even though I told them not to.
I hate them. I hate them so much. That Tabasco sauce will be the death of them. Mark my words, that Tabasco sauce will be the death of them.
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