Young Writers Society

Your plate is starting to look like Lot's wife.

I love music.

(Yoda style )
Love music alot, do I.

Why's your car parked on my sandwhich?

Unless my eyes are deceiving me, I see the metal beast you replaced your horse with, resting on top of what was meant to be my supper - I demand explanation!

Yes, my lord.

(ehh, a bit of Black Butler inspiration)

I shall indeed acquiesce to your request, nobleman who possesses me.

Are we there yet?

Have we reached the destination we desired?

Here's looking at you, kid.

It's all your fault, you sniveling brat!

Well, that went well.

Could've been worse.

We're not dead yet!

Our hearts are still beating with a fiery passion!

This was all your fault.

Well, it wasn't me... *Looks accusingly at other person*

Never mind

Pay it no mind.

It wasn't my fault.

Surely, I cannot be held responsible.

I can't believe it's not butter.

I stared at the block of margarine, and I couldn't believe my eyes;
It. Wasn't. Butter.
*mind explodes*

No offense, but your 'elephant' looks a lot like a cat...

I do declare! Beggin' your pardon, but that there pachyderm of yours, son, does much resemble that feline yonder.

And what if I refuse?

And what shalt thou do if I doth decline?

That is a funny-looking hat.

You sir, are the owner of a head-accessory that appears to my eyes most amusing!

What did you just leave on the steps?