Am I jumping the gun, Baldrick, or are the words "I have a cunning plan" marching with ill-deserved confidence in the direction of this conversation?
Unless I think of something, tomorrow we go to meet our Maker: in my case God, in your case God knows.
Believe me, Baldrick, eternity in the company of Beelzebub and all his hellish instruments of death will be a picnic compared to five minutes with me ... and this pencil.
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