| Inigo Montoya: | That Vizzini, he can *fuss*. |
|---|---|
| Fezzik: | Fuss, fuss... I think he like to scream at *us*. |
| Inigo Montoya: | Probably he means no *harm*. |
| Fezzik: | He's really very short on *charm*. |
| Inigo Montoya: | You have a great gift for rhyme. |
| Fezzik: | Yes, yes, some of the time. |
| Vizzini: | Enough of that. |
| Inigo Montoya: | Fezzik, are there rocks ahead? |
| Fezzik: | If there are, we all be dead. |
| Vizzini: | No more rhymes now, I mean it. |
| Fezzik: | Anybody want a peanut? |
| Vizzini: | DYEEAAHHHHHH. |
On that note...
My name is Gabby and these are my ponderings. Do with them what you wish; I'm just here to try this whole thing out.
