No, the empty jug of milk hitting the bottom of the bin.
Excuse me for a moment; Must run to the store for more, to wash down all these victory treats.
You'll show yourself out?
Fat? No. That's just your jealous gland working overtime filling you unyielding envy over my continuous last. But, fear not. You are not first case envius lastus nooneeternalus, and you certainly won't be the last.
All I took from the above gibberish, was that you don't think I'm fat.
I must therefore suppose, you do think I am staggeringly, mind bendingly, irresistably gorgeous; It's the only reasonable thing to conclude.
I thank you for the flattery, but don't swing that way.
And I'll thank you to leave my gland out of this, for certainly it is not jealous, (nor working overtime) And I have no desire to be filled or unyielding, continuous or otherwise. I'm confident I would not have been the last; You seem quite certain of many Latin conquests in the future, best of luck to you, my friend.
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