Yargghh Black Beard, I have tried to pickle the ed of me buxom wench Elster, and force her to walk the plank into IKEA for some o' their bootiful Swedish meatballs, but twas me who ended up with pickled ears. Wenches these days! Curse womens lib to hell! As every bender buccaneer be knowin, IKEA is kryptonite to an old boozy dog like meself, so I be needin' a hardy soul prepared to stare conformity in the face and brave the cavernous blue and yellow flat pack hell. I be lookin' fer someone not afraid to navigating through wardrobes and book shelfs to reach meatball island, and return with yer manliness intact. I not be expectin' many volunteers fer a mission wrought with such danger, be as the only reward be to increasing the fat content of an idle old booze hound, namely me.
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