Rattfink:
[spreads melted butter]
Mother used to say: to stop the train, you butter the tracks. Good ol' Ma.
[notices the train coming from behind and tries to escape, only to get caught in his own trap and got ran over]
Rattfink:
[injured and covered in bandages, rings the telephone]
Butter the tracks... Hello, Mother?
Rattfink's Mother:
Yes, son?
[Rattfink shoots his gun on the telephone speaker]
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:06