Monty: Ooh, misty and silent and mysterious.
Rosie: You mean, misty-fied, misty-fying, Ooh, I know - misty-frying bacon and eggs!
Monty, paws over eyes, whimpering: She has no poetry in her soul.
Rosie: Yummmmmmmm, misty-frying steak and beans...........
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