The it creeped up the stairs with a knife behind it's gruesome back, ready, for there was a man at the top with greasy black hair playing a clarinet. Storm clouds could be seen clashing into lightning and loud booming thonder. He said: Care for a cup of tea?"

Try your luck on my gaggle of ducks!

In the other room.

I wish she was alive to tell me.

It all comes down to the flavor of it, and I choose the blue soup.

You are not fond of peace are you.

Are the Palistians really Iranian puppets or not?

Nobody is free until they dance.

We rise out of the garbage can, as the new can do people of the revolution.