A girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the most exthquithite little lithp: “Excuthe me mithter, do you keep wittle wabbits?”
The shopkeeper, being a former member of the inspectorate, gets down on his knees, so that he’s on her level, and asks: “Do you want a wittle white wabbit or a soft and fuwwy bwack wabbit or maybe one like that cute wittle bwown wabbit over there?”
She, in turn, puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice: “I don’t fink my pyfon weally cares.”
