Alcotán, dog, farts
¡¡¡ PFFFFFFFFT !!!
Timoteo:
Jesu Christi! What do you feed that thing? Something crawled up inside him and died!
Rick:
Eats only what he kills.
Timoteo:
Jesus… I’m afraid to shoot him. When that belly explodes, there’ll be the avalanche to end all avalanches.
Rick:
Well you, you’re no better, you with your gangrene pipes filled with dead mice. Go downwind at least.
Timoteo:
If you’d get something besides Lima beans, my bowels might not be the 7th level of hell.
Rick:
You could eat bushels of rose petals and still shit mustard gas you nasty Asturìan miner.
(Timoteo farts)
¡¡¡ BRAAAAAAAP !!!
Timoteo:
Oops.
Rick:
Oh jeeezus! You soiled yourself mightily with that one.
Timoteo:
Ooooooh.
Rick:
See. Told you.
Timoteo:
(Turns head, looks down at his ass)
That’s paella for a churchful of Catholics down there.
Rick:
You’re going to need a handful of hedgehogs to wipe that goat-smelling ass of yours.
Timoteo:
With leftovers for the grandkids.
( starts down the hill)
While I’m getting my nails done Ricky, shoot that mange-y fucking cur of yours.
Alcotán, cur:
Grrrrrrrrr
Rick:
That’s between you and the dog. Nothing to do with me.
I’ll be down with the gypsies, the one between the chickens and goats.