Krisjan trek op by n petro stasie
Krisjan: “Goeie more. Maak vol met Super, asseblief.”
Sipho: “How much?”
Krisjan: “Vol asseblief.”
Sipho: “I only speak the English!”
Krisjan: “Noooo problem…. Good day to you, Sir. I currently feel a profound desire to replenish the propellant of my motorized vehicle. Therefore, i cordially request you to transfer, from your subterranean reservoir, a sufficient quantity of combustible fluid of the highest octane rating to fill the appropriate receptacle of the said means of perambulation to the brim.”
Sipho: “ehrr?”
Krisjan: “Do you have a problem, Sir? I thought you said you spoke English?”
Sipho: “English…..ehrr, she is not the English!”
Krisjan: “My dear Sir, are you veritably attempting to insinuate that you do not even recognize the language which you allege to be your singular means of communication?”
Sipho: “Ehrr?”
Krisjan: “Let me attempt to elucidate in the most elementary terms; your paltry grasp of the English vernacular is frittering away the time at my disposal or as I would put it, in a more civilized intelligible language……
Dit is fo**en duidelik dat jy FO**OL van Engels weet. So, kry jou slapgat in rat en maak hierdie bliksemse kar se tank vol voordat ek hier uitklim en jou sommer moer, want jy mors my donnerse tyd!!!
Verstaan jy nou?
Sipho: “Ja Meneer. Vol Meneer?
