(When the Count and Magda are duelling.)
Prepare to be dust, you two-timing traitor!
Eat garlic, you pathetic toad!
Your skin is too pink.
Your fangs are too short!
You're so... fat. We could carpet the castle with one of your enormous dresses. Ha! Ha!
(furious) Yes, and we can sandblast the stonework with a whiff of your wormy, soil breath!
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