Harry Dunne:
Where's the booze?
Lloyd Christmas:
I got robbed by a sweet old lady on a motorized cart. I didn't even see it coming.
Harry Dunne:
Oh, no, no.
Lloyd Christmas:
Come on, Harry.
Harry Dunne:
It gets worse. My parakeet, Petey.
Lloyd Christmas:
Yeah?
Harry Dunne:
He's dead.
Lloyd Christmas:
Oh, man, I'm sorry. What happened?
Harry Dunne:
His head fell off.
Lloyd Christmas:
His head fell off?
Harry Dunne:
Yeah. He was pretty old.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:55
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