Today LarryBoy is working-out. Archie is helping. Archie is LarryBoy's butler, of course. LarryBoy had to do jumping jacks, but... he couldn't do them. So he wrote a strange letter to the Bigidea Studio. At half past two, Phil Visher got the mail and he read:
dfnr6ghb 45 mr5s4g 523G%$W%#^NJ$E% yt e5s5lnmr5s nxxrn m4flapjack2000rbn e lbz wasohmn lz lumburgcheeset nre6.ehil7h 3.n4eioji5 n
45w3^Y%$h5r4m enu r T&RD, ctn mkjphineasandferb b nse5 candacev nrt je/ln m75 E$%#$@JNe 5
I CAN'T DO
A long letter with only five words for a translation. Archie just told him to go on the bench-press. Huck 2,3,4! Huck 2,3,4! OOF! "ow." said LarryBoy. "I'M OK ARCHIE!" called LarryBoy. That evening at six eleven, LarryBoy was eating all the custard cake batter. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" cried Archie in slow motion. (And echoy) Then....
BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP! That was one loud and long burp.