"Gimme 'dat" barked Karen as she reclaimed her hideous handbag and munched merrily on a greasy thigh.
Garnabby studied the sight in front of him...curious...he rarely had visitors and a woman visitor was almost unheard of.
"Alas," he thought: "my TOE has no provision for me getting laid...I revel solely in the intellectual realm."
The visage he espied did nothing to inflame either his ardor or his private parts; "too bad she's not a lisping, left handed Lakota lesbian" he concluded before belching loudly and saying "OK, you're here...now what?"
Karen was silent for a minute, then piped up.
"Well I and I was hopin' 'dat we'd get along so's I and I could stay here wit' you. OK?"
Never one to let himself be trapped in a corner, the Man From The North blithely responded "Sorry, that can't happen; my work takes priority."
With that he went back to sitting in the corner, humming to himself, rocking back and forth rhythmically as he tunefully passed gas to his favorite Celine Dion song.
"Well damn..." was all Karen could say; seeing there was no point in sticking around she dropped trou and then graced the igloo floor with a whopper of a deuce.
While walking away she asked "Which way be Portland? 'Dere's someone 'dere I and I needs to see..."
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