"AAAAAAAAAaaaaaagggggghhhhh!!"
*CRASH!!*
[Wombat comes flying through through the ceiling of the Quiet English Pub, landing on top of a nearby table and crushing two Mark III ACME super-deep-clean-mega-sparkly-bots in the process. No sooner does he sit up with a sill grin on his blue furry face, his parachute then deploys. Wombat lazily stuffs the parachute, along with a few ketchup bottles and a few of the ceiling tiles, into his pouch. He sits up and looks around with a confused look.]
"Hey...your not Big Ken."
"Nope."
"Can you play patty-cake like Big Ken used to?"
"I sincerely doubt he played patty cake."
"Patty cake?"
"Yes, patty cake."
"Bakers man."
"I'm not going to be suckered into playing."
"Suckered?"
"Yes suckered. Bbamboozled, beguiled, bluffed, buffalo'd, burned, caught, conned, duped, faked out, fooled, gaffed, had, hoaxed, hoodwinked, hornswoggled, deceived, humbugged, juggled, misguided, misinformed, mislead, snookered, snowed, suckered, or tricked."
[Malich looks up to noticed Wombat is taking notes, or he would be if he could actually write. Since Wombat can't actually write, he appears to have placed a crudely fingerpainted canvas of a marsupial taking notes. In the meantime, Malich hears the tell-tale sign of his cash-register "dinging" and small marsupial on the floor next to it, wearing an extra-small sized coveralls and scooping the cash into his pouch with a pitchfork.]