“Well, I don’t eat all them hamhocks myself, but there’s a fella ’round the Pole who can’t get enough of ’em, so we trade for peanut butter! And peppermint. Ol’ elf seems to have a never-endin’ supply!”, the red-faced prospector said to his giant furry cohort. “You eat peppermint, dontcha?”
“Rrrrrhgoigrhg,” the Bumble replied.
Yukon Cornelius hurled his pickax into air, fished it out of the snow, licked it thoughtfully, and continued as if nothing had happened. “The guitar strings, that’s ’cause I sit in with the Arctic Monkeys sometimes.”
“Yyyyeghegh?”, asked the Bumble. It only listened to Kenny G.