...shall thou attend to [CENSORED]eth thyself? Hark, I do decree it would be a most splendid proposition to fulfill.

Ere I do thee, thou to thyself wast most cruel indeed.

Do I dare to wonder? Where hath Lord RibMan misplaced himself in noblest of time past?

What does one say to a man of such stature, such presidence? Surely I shall greet him with most kindness unto mine bosom. But alas, I am unable to speak.

fortunate art we all that this pair of torpid protean creatures have shown cupidity towards ye old British mannerisms, no doubteth after purveying derogating victorian-set pornography, spuriously choosing to adopt this provenance of titties and silly-talk with such witnessed execrable babble. For to, perhaps marketh the end of their witless rebarbative aspersions and bring grand equipoise.

I dont speak english.

Shh! Shakespeare's holding up auditions for the role of Ruth in "Crouching Tiger, Screaming Sigfreid & Roy."

Why don't you guys just speak some american...

Thou shall not beat my chickens.

Then, shalt thou count to three. No more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shalt count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Four shalt thou not count, neither count thou two, excepting that thou then proceed to three. Five is right out.

One... two... five!
Three, sir.
Three!