A little girl walks into a pet shop and asks in the sweetest little lisp: "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep wittle wabbits?"
And the shopkeeper gets down on his knees, so that he’s on her level,
and asks: "Do you want a wittle white wabby or a soft and fuwwy bwack
wabby or maybe one like that cute wittle bwown wabby over there?"
The little girl puts her hands on her knees, leans forward and says in
a quiet voice: "I don’t fink my pyfon really giveths a thit."