“Wull, hey there, li’l ladeh.”

“Good evening, sir…?”

“Say, yer pretteh.. how’d ye like tuh cum back with meh to mah ’partmunt?”

“No, that’s quite all right.”

“C’mon, now. A pretteh thing like yerself shouldn’t be out this layt ull ullone.”

“Get your hands off of me!”

“Aww, come onnnn… Y’know, I think I had a dream ’bout yeh the uther night.”

“Sir, please!! You’re drunk, you should go inside!”

“Oh, so yuh think yer too good for me, do ya?! Just b’cuz yeh got yerself a fancy coat an’ bag dussint mean yer not just like me! We’re all thuh same! We’ve ull got dreams and—hic—ambitions!! C’mawn back here!”

“Hello, 911? … Yes, I’m on the corner of Twenty-third Avenue and Bristol Lane. … Well, I was coming out of the bar … yeah, the one on the corner, and this drunken man tried to follow me … no, I’m fine. It’s just that when I was running away from him, a car crossed the street at the same time … No, he’s not breathing, and there’s blood everywhere. Please hurry; I think he’s dead.”