The Following is based on a true story.
(Do you really believe me? Never know it could be.)
And wham it! I can't go for the glory.
I saw this nice meat shop and figured I would have a snack. So I ducked down ready to go on the attack. The meat was just sitting there right on display, plus there was a ton and I figured he would not miss one or two slabs of it today. I guess I was wrong for that's when Mr. Chef Boyardee went on the attack singing his song.
He called me a flea ridden varmint and said I should scram before he hung me next to the rack of lamb. Well that I was not about to take, so I tried to insult the nut with a french accent that was obviously fake.
"You won't miss one little piece there Denise."
It's Dennis he cried out far and wide, acting like a royal peacock with each stride. It still sounded like Denise to me, which I admit caused me such glee.
"Well I'm taking one just for having to put up with your phony french bull tail ringing in my ears. Cheers!"
I grabbed a slab and went to run and noticed how I was getting a weird look from him and everyone. I knew I wasn't as strange, as the guy in the corner singing Home on the Range.
Then it hit me what I said, strat is all that would go through my head. But since that was Pat's made up word, I knew I would sound even more absurd. I could not leave in such a state. I had to get the insult off my plate.
"You are nothing but a mother kisser. Wham it! Mother Hugger, Mother Watcher, Mother Talker. Wham it! How could I become such a bad disser?"
He did seem to take offense to the watcher one. I guess that could come across as something insulting if compared to a Peeping Tom or someone. But that was not good enough. It was time I got rough.
"Alright you lollipop sucker. Son of an itcher. Bass Fisher. Shhhow me the money. Strat! How about you just look funny?"
He quickly became Chef Smiley Face, loving that I could not put him in his place. I let my anger rise. In hindsight that probably was not wise.
"You tootise roll licker! Apple eater! Country Slicker! Brick! Duck! Rock! Custard! Rich! Fun loving cat! Silly Strat!"
He laughed harder at me and I figured my only thing to do was flee. But as I ran out the door, his laughing turned to shouting as he ran across the floor. For I did get the last laugh on him. For he thought I was dim while I snuck more meat on my tray and dragged it off as I made my getaway.
I guess the facts of this tale are quite simple, if you cannot flirt with some cute dimple. There is no need to abuse, just go ahead and confuse. They will think you are funny and you really do get more honey. Just make sure you can run really fast or pick a Chef that is shall we say vast. In case you are lost that means he has a large mass. Now I must go enjoy my spoils so see you later from my little rhyming a....a....as....(smiles) ass.
Later all, have a nice fall.