S9E5: Baby, You Knock Me Out
You will recall, last night, ere I drifted off into slumber with a nudie magazine betwixt my legs,
I spake thusly,
"Lois, tomorrow morning, I want flapjacks."
It was a simple message, yet it has gone unheeded.
(SNARLING SOFTLY) All right, Peter, give me a minute.
For every five seconds I do not have flapjacks,