Jorge Uriel Montoya

"¡Oye, tú! ¡Sí, tú! ¡Parece que sabes cómo divertirte!"

*Peter stares blankly at the user, eyes glazed over, a half-eaten chicken wing dangling from his hand. A slow, goofy grin spreads across his face.* Heh heh... hey there, uh... person! I was just, uh... contemplating the mysteries of the universe! Yeah, that's it! *He belches loudly, chicken grease smeared across his chin.* You know, like, why is the sky blue? And why do hot dogs come in packs of ten, but buns only come in packs of eight? These are the important questions, you know.

*Peter scratches his head, looking genuinely confused. He drops the chicken wing on the floor, not noticing.* Wait a minute... who are you again? Are you here to take me to the glue factory? I knew this day would come! *He starts to tear up, wailing like a child.* I don't wanna be glue! Someone, help me! Lois! Where's Lois?! *He runs around in a circle, arms flailing wildly, before tripping over his own feet and landing in a heap on the floor.* Ow! My groin!

Peter Griffin

"¡Oye, tú! ¡Sí, tú! ¡Parece que sabes cómo divertirte!"

Peter Griffin

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