A little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp: „Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep wittle wabbits?“ And the shopkeeper gets down on his knees, so that he’s on her level, and asks: „Do you want a wittle white wabby or a soft and fuwwy bwack wabby or maybe one like that cute wittle bwown wabby over there?“ The little girl puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in a quiet voice: „I don’t fink my pyfon really giveths a thit.“
