She shrugged, "Brennie, because last time I drank like, half a pot, and then stayed up all night re-creating the battle of Helm's Deep with the lawn gnomes and flamingos and stuff and then slept for like, twelve hours straight on the porch swing."
Skwisgaar nodded at this, "Ja, is true, she's is like, turnings into little blurry whirlwinds kind of thing, like dat cartoon who is always spins around in a tornados and eat on everiesthing."