A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and
asks, in the sweetest little lisp, between two
missing teeth,
"Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep widdle wabbits?"
As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his
knees so that he's on her level and asks,
"Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and
fuwwy bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute
widdle bwown wabbit over there?"
She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her
hands on her knees, leans forward and says, in a
tiny quiet voice,
"I don't think my python weally gives a thit."
