Alfalfa, that's a part of you I've never seen before!
Dear Darla, I hate your stinking guts. You make me vomit. You're scum between my toes! Love, Alfalfa.
Actually, I've always had a rather extensive vocabulary, not to mention a phenomenal grasp of grammar and a superlative command of syntax. I simply chose not to employ them.
Then the clouds opened up and God said, "I hate you, Alfalfa!"
We are he-man woman haters, We feed girls to alligators, Our clubhouse burned down mighty low, But we've got a plan to make some dough!
Quick, what's the number for 911?
Any last words?
Yeah, uh! See ya!
Why am I soaking wet?
Don't worry, Alfalfa. I used to have the same problem.
If you were my kids, I'd punish you.
If we were YOUR kids, we'd punish ourselves!
We just moved into town. My father bought the oil refinery.
That explains why you're so refined!
Yeah, and so oily!
Porky, you sure know how to make a sand-wich!
That wasn't sand, that was kitty litter.
Don't worry, it's pretty fresh.
Hey, my mom's here!
Wood doesn't grow on trees!
You're a team, like Bert and Ernie, Superman and Clark Kent, Milli and Vanilli.
I... Stymie... Member in good standing of the He-Man Woman Haters Club... Do solemnly swear to be a he-man and hate women and not play with them or talk to them unless I have to. And especially: never fall in love, and if I do may I die slowly and painfully and suffer for hours - or until I scream bloody murder.
Hey, Uh-Huh, does it stink in there?
I got a dollar, I got a dollar, I got a dollar hey, hey, hey, hey