|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| I'm feeling so lonely. Please be nice and let me stay over, Jake. | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| That's not my name. Look, moron, I'm gonna call the cops, your invading my property. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| But we're all criminals here, Jake. I saw you stealing from Gertrude's grocery store. That poor old lady. Did you know she's a Holocaust survivor? | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| You may stay. If you want. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Sweeet! I've over 800 poems to recite to you. The first one's named: A sea of dark darkness and eternal sorrow of the wicked. | |
| | |
|
 |
|
|
says: