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Description
"I don't know...what do they call a Big Mac in Pyongyang?"

I haven't picked on these guys in a while. I saw where one of Uncle Pootie's political opponents accidentally passed away, or slipped in the shower or something. Both of these guys are still with us, piling up bodies like cordwood - they keep artists like me in business. I could do without that business.

"They call it whatever I tell them to call it..."

Description
"I don't know...what do they call a Big Mac in Pyongyang?"

I haven't picked on these guys in a while. I saw where one of Uncle Pootie's political opponents accidentally passed away, or slipped in the shower or something. Both of these guys are still with us, piling up bodies like cordwood - they keep artists like me in business. I could do without that business.

"They call it whatever I tell them to call it..."