Come children, gather round the potato tree for a mug of warm spiced bovril and then straight off to bed so father potatomass will come and leave you root vegetable-based goods if you have been good this year
"Okay men, it's the fifth quarter. The lord gave up these fine sandwiches and real Italian cups of coffee and by jingo it is up to us to sell them. We can do it team. And anybody who can't... Well I'll bust your arse back down to burgers flipping at McDonalds by closing"