Sylvester: Six weeks? I'll starve!
[goes to the kitchen and opens the fridge, finding nothing but bird seed]
Sylvester: Bird seed...?
Sylvester: [opens the cupboard, which has the same contents as the fridge] Seed?
Tweety: Hey, putty tat! I found lots of food!
[Sylvester runs excitedly to the pantry, only to discover that it is also stuffed with bird seed]
Tweety: We don't have to worry, putty. There's enough food for a long time.
Sylvester: I'm a cat! I've gotta have cat food!
Tweety: Aw, poor putty tat. We've got to find something for you to eat. Let's see, what do putty tats like to eat...
Sylvester: Well, let's see, there's liver, and there's fish, and there's, uh... there's, uh...
[stares menacingly at Tweety]
Tweety: And then there's what, putty? What else is there?
Sylvester: Never mind, never mind. I got it solved.
[runs
to the kitchen]
-Merry
Christmas my fellow Wittians!-
Eddie:
Hey, Judge. Doesn't a dying rabbit deserve a last
request?
Roger: Yeah, nose plugs would be nice.
Eddie: I think you want a drink. So, how about it, Judge?
Doom: Well, why not? I don't mind prolonging the execution.
Eddie: Happy trails.
Roger: No thanks, Eddie. I'm trying to cut down.
Eddie: Drink the drink.
Roger: But I don't want the drink.
Doom: He doesn't want the drink.
Eddie: He does.
Roger: I don't.
You do.
I don't.
You do.
I don't.
You do.
I don't.
You don't.
I do.
You don't.
I do.
You don't.
Roger: Listen, when I say I do, that means I do.