This is a new form of poetry. I just invented it today.
Meanwhile, at the secret clubhouse .... Detective John McClane: Anyone up for a game of poker? Dirty Harry: Feel lucky punk? Detective John McClane: Yippie Ki-Yay mother****** Dirty Harry: Did you just call me a mother*****? Hans Gruber: I am the only mother***** here. Sigmund Freud: So tell me Hans, when did you first realize you had these feelings for your mother? Detective John McClane: Siggy, Siggy, Hansy Boy is a second-rate East German terrorist with a lousy accent, he isn't some twisted, perverted freak. Andrew "Squiggy" Squiggman (walking in the door): Hello! Mad Hatter: You’re late. Andrew "Squiggy" Squiggman: I was on a hot date. Mad Hatter: You're also a liar. Mr Kotter: Do you have a note from your mother Mr. Squiggman? Arnold Horshack: Yes Mr. Squiggman, where for art thou note from thy mother? Andrew "Squiggy" Squiggman: This is my note. Mr. Kotter: That isn't a note. That's, that's... Vinnie Barbarino: Ba-ba-ba-barbarino, Ba-ba-ba-barbarino.
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