Me and Momma babysitted stupid Velma again today, and astead a playin' Wild West Gunslinger like I wanted to, I hadda play school and Velma maked me be Mrs. Book, the teacher. Then she gotted to pokin' on my page like as if SHE beed the teacher; yippin' and yackerin' 'bout I weren't colourin' inside a the lines. So I bited a big chunk outta her book. And when Momma beed tryin' to break up my ruckus; I eated some crayons, too. Which, now I's fartin' like a fat boy on a bicycle. It smells like Indian Red. This prawly ain't over yet.