Oh gosh
! Not the fine china
! When Robin shows up on his Harley that pretty stuff will shatter from the thunderous roar of his pipes like a well-hit clay. Heck, my neighbors are still trying to get me to pay for their windows from Robin's last visit here.
Hey John, where'd you buy them fezzants?
. . . shot 'em? I dunno John, that story is gettin pretty old
