OK, nobody move!
Now which one o' you dirty, low down sons a' bitches stole nine goddamned hours from me?
Lemuel, lock the door. Ain't no-one gettin' out till I get my time back right here where it belongs.
I walked into this day once my honey left with nine freshly-minted hours, ordered myself a decaff Coasta latte, and now look, barely seconds left. So c'mon, which one of ya took 'em?
Won't be no hollerin' or consequences, I'll just shootcha quietly through the head and we'll say no more about it.
I ain't yet done my daily peregrinations on that there static velocipede, and I had them nine hours clearly marked for my own personal uses, which was to include some time a-pedallin' on that confounded machine.
Now, cos o' one o' you mangy dogs, I gotta but into my canoodlin' time with my good lady when she gets her hide in through the door to go a-peddlin'.
(whispers off-stage)
Whadday mean, ma own Mama done it? Not ma sweet old Mama? Well confound it all, whatcha all lookin' at? Ain'tcha never seen a feller spend a day runnin' round after his kin before? Go on now, there's nothin' to see here, 'ceptin' a plum stupid critter pedallin' his hind off.
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