
“Holy cats, man! We’re starting to wobble!” – C.M. Burns
“Get . . . me . . . to . . . a . . . hospital. You . . . have . . . to . . . peddle.” – Mr. Smithers
“Oh, Tuttle’s Sunday trousers!” – C.M. Burns
An ongoing ramble by Charlie Sweatpants . .

“Holy cats, man! We’re starting to wobble!” – C.M. Burns
“Get . . . me . . . to . . . a . . . hospital. You . . . have . . . to . . . peddle.” – Mr. Smithers
“Oh, Tuttle’s Sunday trousers!” – C.M. Burns
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“As soon as Zed gets here, the fun can begin….”
Zed’s dead, baby. Zed’s dead.