Ounce up on tyme there lived a grill who was in wit a bouy. Butt the bouy didnut no aboot the grill. The grill, maimed Pill, was in luv and sea new it. The bouy, Sob, was aqueen and didnut like pupils of the udder six.
Butt Pill nut noing this was fartbroken and very upsit. In disappeartion she comforted Sob in skool.
“I luv u Sob,” she spiked.
“If ya was Othello it wood all be defiante,” auntswedered Sob.
“I’ll safe you from a life of queriness, if yew gift me a change,” pleated Pill.
“Know, I yam what eye is,” resorted Sob,”I wont chance joust four yew.”
“I luv you Sob,” pied Pill in despare. Sheep thin pulled oot a bun and shot im.
Sob fell unhappy, butt gay.