All is in Blunderland
The thin, green, bug-eyed alien tries to stifle a laugh, but he can't help himself, and roars with laughter at the sheer brilliance of your pun. Like lightning, you reach for your lightsaber and before Greedo even knows what's hit him, the conversation is, indeed, cut short.
"You've been wittled, a wittle," you say, smiling at your wonderful, well-done wit.
You take a step back to avoid getting green blood on your shoes, hear a squeak, and immediately fall over.
When you open your eyes again, you're staring at the most beautiful woman you've ever seen.
"Zdrastvyitye," she says, with a thick Russian accent. "I trip you vith a porpoise."
You smile at the cuteness of her linguistic mistake, until you hear the squeaking noise again, look down, and realize that she meant that literally.
You give her your name, and she smiles and says, "I'm Barbolga."
"Er, sorry?" you say, "What was that, again?"
"BARBOLGA. Barbolga Drago. You can call me 'The Bear.'"
"That's-er... lovely, er. Just lovely, Miss Bear."
"THE Bear."
"Er, yes, right."
The waiter comes along in the nick of time, and asks what you'd like to have.
What do you order?
"You've been wittled, a wittle," you say, smiling at your wonderful, well-done wit.
You take a step back to avoid getting green blood on your shoes, hear a squeak, and immediately fall over.
When you open your eyes again, you're staring at the most beautiful woman you've ever seen.
"Zdrastvyitye," she says, with a thick Russian accent. "I trip you vith a porpoise."
You smile at the cuteness of her linguistic mistake, until you hear the squeaking noise again, look down, and realize that she meant that literally.
You give her your name, and she smiles and says, "I'm Barbolga."
"Er, sorry?" you say, "What was that, again?"
"BARBOLGA. Barbolga Drago. You can call me 'The Bear.'"
"That's-er... lovely, er. Just lovely, Miss Bear."
"THE Bear."
"Er, yes, right."
The waiter comes along in the nick of time, and asks what you'd like to have.
What do you order?