"So... wow. That was amazing food. I've never had German food before... but I'm worried what it's going to be like tonight when I have to use the bathroom like three or four times! How's your stomach? Need to hit the restroom before we go?"
"NEIN! Der poopen ist stucken in mein blunderbussen!!!!!"
".... okay, what?"
*laughing* "Just making up language. See what three years of high school German gets you?"
"What the heck is blunderbussen?"
"From blunderbuss. Predecessor to the shotgun."
"Okay, but wh... oh. Augh, gross! And I'm gonna have to smell that tonight! No.. no, I won't! If you have to go, go outside!"
*feigning indignance* "The cats are out there."
"Well... they're feral, and probably bored. They see me out there, dropping trow, and, you know, their 'attack that odd moving object over there' instinct kicks in..."
"You really think those cats are gonna go for your sack?"
"Der kitten ist snaggin on mein baggin!"
"Agggh! Mental image! STOP IT!"
"I mean, I'm gonna be like, spinning around trying to get that thing to let go... all like, 'AAAAAH! Sharp claws! Get it off me!' at 2 am, and it's gonna be just *hanging* there, going 'mew!', and I'll be tripping on my own pants, and.... "