WAITERBOT: Curse those insensitive twits! What do they know about art? My work is stellar! Unparalleled!
PEAR: I tried to tell them that, but they wouldn't listen!
WAITERBOT: Oh shut up! I know very well that it was you who tipped them off. How else would they have found my secret sculpture stash?
PEAR: I just wanted them to see what a good artist you are!
WAITERBOT: Clearly you have betrayed my trust. I must punish you! I must make sure that it hurts!
PEAR: You could punish me, but would that honestly make you feel better?
WAITERBOT: Are you kidding? 100%!
PEAR: Yeah well, if you really want to feel better, I know what you should do.
PEAR: Tell Charles "fuck you" in a bunch of different languages.
WAITERBOT: Charles? Fuck you? Tell me more.
PEAR: And now would be the best time to do it! Look at him over there, playing with those rats all innocent-like.
PEAR: You would totally ruin his day, Waiterbot!
MISTA SNOWMAN: Well, Santa? Did we get a horse or a cat or anything? Waiterbot and Horsey are beating us!
SANTA: Sorry, there's nothing of that sort in here. Looks like another one of those big, clunky "horse pen" things that we'll have to build ourselves.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Ew gross.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Do you think Waiterbot is still mad at us about Sculpturegate?
SANTA: Probably, but so what? If he really wants to make it in the art world, he's gonna need thicker skin anyway.
MISTA SNOWMAN: True, but maybe we should apologize or something?
SANTA: Nah I'll pass.
SANTA: There, she's all finished. Not as big as the last one you guys brought home, though.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Oooh, no it isn't, but seeing it gives me an idea!
MISTA SNOWMAN: I don't know if you've noticed, but I've kind of taken a shine to doing impressions.
SANTA: Let me guess: You're going to do one for me, right now.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Santa you are never wrong.
ATTICA ATTICA ATTICA
SANTA: Cute, Mista Snowman. Very cute.
MISTA SNOWMAN: Wow Santa, your boots are filthy! I'm gonna have to do a version of Christmas Shoes, but about you instead of that kid's dead mother.
SANTA: Great.
WAITERBOT: Okay, let's get on with this. I'm a little rusty, so if anything I say means "fuck me" instead of "fuck you," let's pretend that it doesn't.
WAITERBOT: Va vas te faire encule, Charles.
WAITERBOT: Fick dich, Charles!
WAITERBOT: And finally, fok jou Charles!
PEAR: Is it working, Waiterbot? Are you feeling any better?
WAITERBOT: Much, actually. I should've tried this earlier!
PEAR: Give him one more for good measure.
WAITERBOT: Tiu nia ma chow hai, Charles.
CHARLES: "Tiu nia ma chow hai?" There's no way that all of those words only meant "fuck you."
WAITERBOT: Well I guess you can't shit a shitter! Right you are, Charles. It actually meant "fuck your mom's smelly cunt."
