And I hate worse that this is just one cut away gag where he demolishes a company he bought in a flash cut.

I really hate living in a John Hughes film where the entitled Billionaire learns the secret to happiness at the end, after many, many comic misadventures.

When you bung a high roof on it. Ho ho ho.

Useful feature in a bungalow, else how would you reach the top floor?

On the estate by mine they have bungalows in the middle, so essentially in a bit of a park, but with gardens at the back and a porch at the front and I've never wanted something so much. I could sit there in a rocking chair and if any government man crosses my gate, well he best keep on walking.

Fucking nailed it. It's Can City, baby! And I'm the guy drinking a can.

Have they even tested to see if it's McGoohan proof?

Have you heard anything in a long time? What with the unfortunate ear situation and all.

-Come on baby, Daddy needs 2 likes or whatever is the bare minimum here-

Oh look at you over here, bloosking like a pro.

What's the word? Thunderbird!
What's the price? Surprisingly expensive.

Oh a hardcore racist is it.

Okay but let's see all three at once, like Barry White.

In addition I've found that I'm blocked by nobody, Everybody's Best Friend I am.

Stamping his little feet, puffing out his cheeks, tutting furiously.

I want to go to there.

Haha! And the Cardiganless Linda bots. Who I assume will show up in time.