Ah am chilling in l’ouse when le Paparazzi arrive to photograph me in mah capacity of le most famous ‘orze in le world.

‘Of course ah will oblige’ ah say and ah give le most winning smarle.

L’imbicile grumble in le background. ‘Shut up L’imbicile’ ah mutteur, ‘nobody want to take le photograph of you’. Ah do not say this too loud, ‘e is biggeur than me and ah am not stupeed.

Ah concentrate on looking stern and uncompromising.

Ah stare deep into le camera lens and give le most intelligent expression.

Ah am wondeuring if it is possible that L’imbicile mart spontaneously combust.
Ah ‘ear it can ‘appen.
If L’Uncle was ‘ere, ‘e would say it could arranged’.

Apart from le fact ‘e is l’idiot and Muzzeur’s boyfriend, ‘e always want to fart with me and now that ah am le working ‘orze, ah ‘ave betteur things to do with le spare tarm.

Ah am le very busy ‘orze now. Ah do not ‘ave tarm to fart with anyone.

Suddenly, for no reason at all,  ah am attacked from be’ind. Quell ‘orreur!

When ah told ‘im to Bart Me this moaning, ah did not mean it – it is just l’expression.

‘What L’ell’ ah yell, ‘ah did not mean it!’

But ‘e will not let go. Ah ‘ave to do something about le situation. ‘e will pay dearly for this.

Ah staggeur oveur to le Paparazzi.
‘Did you see that Paparazzi?’ ah ask, ‘it was l’unprovoked attack, and ah am now in le coma unable to anything eveur again’.

It is then that ah realarse that ah ‘ave just WALKED oveur to them.
Quickly ah drop to le ground and ‘ope they did not notice.
Ah give them le most beatific smarle and lie there. Le minute go by and nobody say anything.

This is awkward.