Mother: What have you got now?
Chris: I bought an ant, mother.
Mother: What d'you want one of them for! I'm not going to clean it out. You said you'd clean the tiger out, but do you? No, I suppose you've lost interest in it now. Now it'll be ant ant ant for a couple of days, then all of a sudden, 'oh, mum, I've bought a sloth' or some other odd-toed ungulate like a tapir.
Chris: It's really different this time, mum. I'm really going to look after this ant.
Mother: That's what you said about the sperm whale... now your papa's having to use it as a garage.
Chris: Well, you didn't feed it properly.
Mother: Where are we going to get 44 tons of plankton from every morning? Your dad was dead vexed about that. They thought he was mad in the deli.
Chris: Well at least he's got a free garage.
Mother: That's no good to him... his Hillman smells all fishy. [growl from the tiger] Oh blimey, that's the tiger. He'll want his mandies.
Chris: Are you giving that tiger drugs?
Mother: 'Course I'm giving it drugs!
Chris: It's illegal.
Mother: You try telling that to the tiger.
Chris: I think it's dangerous.
Mother: Listen, before he started fixing, he used to get through four Jehovah's witnesses a day. And he used to eat all of them, except the pamphlets.
Chris: Well, he's not dim.

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