The scene: Woopert is in his vertical fortress, top of the boardroom and barking commands to his minions and t’ings: “Streuth Harridan, we ready to go on this, for fxxx’s sake!!” …”yes, yes, your Excellency. Wired for sound…signal coming through just…about…now…”

– Prince C, me old mate…it’s me, Cliffy…

Wherrr, mmm, welll, Sir Clifford. Dear, dear Sir Cliff. How is one this evening?

– pumped up and poptastic! Twirling around me little ol’ plantation…

Well, one wants…one wants wather very much to be, to be…erhmphh…

– mega! I get the drift, me old mate…”Or not to be…?”

Nooo, nooo, noo man. Not not to beeee!!!

– coolio…not, not to be…then…

Whell, tooo bee…uhmaa

– look me old Bonnie Prince Charlie, to be, or not to be? Take yerr pick, nooo?

To be…one wants to be…one wants to be an organic carrott…

– your Princetasticness…it’s orange ‘nd a la mode, err…orangetastic…

Woopert swiveled round in his large leather throne and shot a whithering glance at Harridan – “Tame. Tame and lame!! And Harridan…what’s with those goddd damnnn sandals!?”