[Señor Pikesfan, who forgot to eat lunch in all the excitement and is rather hungry, goes to the plate of Squid Fried With Onions which was placed on a side table and which everyone has forgotten about with Señor Calamari’s stunning revelation.]
Ugh, yuck, Onions! But I’m so starving I’ll just have to pick them out.
[Why is the undercook making as if to run away?]
Wait a moment. This doesn’t taste like Squid Fried With Onions from Señor Calamari’s own table. I’ve eaten that. This tastes like Señor Mitchell’s Spam Brand Squid! Ohhh, Aunt Esmeralda, I don’t feel so good
[Señor Pikesfan turns quite green and then black as rotten squid ink, and then poor Ronnà Pikesfan collapses]
Oh, the onions! Oh, my annals!
[and dies.]
Ugh, yuck, Onions! But I’m so starving I’ll just have to pick them out.
[Why is the undercook making as if to run away?]
Wait a moment. This doesn’t taste like Squid Fried With Onions from Señor Calamari’s own table. I’ve eaten that. This tastes like Señor Mitchell’s Spam Brand Squid! Ohhh, Aunt Esmeralda, I don’t feel so good
[Señor Pikesfan turns quite green and then black as rotten squid ink, and then poor Ronnà Pikesfan collapses]
Oh, the onions! Oh, my annals!
[and dies.]
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