|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| We've been best buds for years, Butch! Can't we talk this over? | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| Mama want make Chicken Pot pies tonight, Diablo. Butchy got no choice. | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| That better be a chopped up chicken in that box, Butch. | |
| | |
|
 |
| | |
| You need trust Butchy, Mama! | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
But, that night, over dinner.......
|
|
|
|
| | |
| Since when do chicken-pot-pies have scales and smell of Cod? | |
| | |
|
 |
| | |
| Butchy told me it was a..."Chicken of the Sea"! | |
| | |
|
|
|
