What is this? What is this? Do I look like the Ritz? Do you see blinds in this place? Who are you and what are you doing here? No, no! Don't kick me anymore, I'm trying to talk to you.
Look, you showed up awhile ago, all small and insignificant, and I thought "Huh, that looks familiar." I should've listened to that sinking feeling that I've been here before. With a similar looking thing.
And then it started. You started. To grow. And grow. And grow. And I'm plain sick of it. Now you're wriggling around and kicking and squirming, and I can't get anything done and you're just not taking the hints. I'm contracting because I don't want you here.
Don't suck your thumb. I know you think it's cute, but it's not. The other two did it, too. Oooh, if only I'd known then it was this contracting business that would get them out. But I'm wise now, oh yessiree, wise and angry. And this is my place. You stretch me out anymore and old Mother Dear is gonna feel the wrath.