pt: Blargh! iguana! You killed my feet! You soaked them to death!
exclaims the pt whilst we walk into the house through the back door.
me: sorry pt. Do you want me to bury them?
pt: no no no. It's no use. They'll never move again!
me: what a shame
pt: well...I suppose they would move again.
me: ?
pt: well...a thousand years from now, someone will probably dig all the dead people up
me: why?
pt: duh! Because in a thousand years, we'll be trading planets with the martians!
me: ?
pt: you wouldn't sell someone a planet full of dead people, would you?
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