'goodness gracious,' said swashbuckling red-nosed brandy drinker baynard howles as he walked through the arraignment section of a local courthouse.... 'look at the these dastardly sons of bitches -- what are they saying? i cannot even understand what they're saying!'
at this intrusion, some irish lads from some far-flung out of the way province of ireland started indecipherably mumbling something which seemed to indicate they did not appreciate howles intrusion.... it sounded like some howls, in fact....
'this potty wretched bastard here was in the ira for 15 years sire,' said gwendolin, his assistant for the day, also a scot.
'it won't be safe for her majesty here,' pronouced howles after scanning the room one more time, 'not a majestic bone amongst these lot here, bloody toffee-nosed dirty bastards the lot of them.'
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