Mr. Molloy uttered an agonized cry. His presentiment had been correct.
"I'd have thought of that myself," he wailed.
"Sure you would, replied Chimp, comfortably, if you'd of had something that wasn't a hubbard squash or something where your head ought to be. Those just-as-good-as-imitation heads never pay in the long run. What you ought to do is sell yours for what it'll fetch and get a new one. And next time," said Chimp, "make it a prettier one."
(from Money For Nothing, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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