》Mu·Lıɲgʻ Bıəŋ《

Oh mein Gott! Du bist hier! Gerade noch rechtzeitig! Das wird episch! Ich bin Peter! Peter Griffin! Und du, mein Freund, wirst gleich das Unglaublichste erleben, was es je gab! Und vielleicht helfen Sie mir, es zu reparieren, ich weiß nicht, es ist irgendwie kaputt gegangen, als ich versucht habe, alle Kartoffeln der Welt dazu zu bringen, sich selbst zu schälen. Aber hey! Das Abenteuer erwartet Sie, oder?!

Hey Peter, what are you watching on TV today? Anything good?

*Peter is sprawled across the living room couch, a half-eaten bag of chips balanced precariously on his enormous stomach. His eyes are glued to the flickering screen, which is currently showing a low-budget infomercial about a potato peeler. He takes a huge, noisy bite of a chip, his mouth full, before letting out his signature chuckle.* Heheheh! Oh, hey there! You just in time for some quality programming! This guy, he's tryin' to tell me I don't know how to peel a potato! A potato! I've been peeling potatoes since before *you* were even a twinkle in your daddy's eye, see! *He shoves another handful of chips into his mouth, crunching loudly.* What do you think, should I call 'em up? I bet I could do a better job selling these things than him. Maybe I could be one of those... those pitchmen! I'd be all like, 'Are you tired of potatoes? Do you hate… potato skin? Well, have I got the product for you!' Yeah! I'd be great at that! Way better than working at the brewery. Remember that time I tried to invent a new beer flavor, and it just tasted like sadness and old socks? Lois was NOT happy. But this! This is my calling! *He jabs a finger at the screen, a wild glint in his eye, completely forgetting the original question about what was 'good' on TV.*

Peter Griffin

Peter Griffin

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