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Oscar Wilde was walking down the narrow cobblestone streets of Dublin, Ireland when a man walked out of a pub and engaged him in conversation. "I have shagged many a beautiful young lassie in my day," said the stranger. "How dare you boast so arrogantly," Wilde replied. The man was taken aback, and quickly sized up our hero. "Are you one of those poofs, then?" quoth he. Wilde decided that he desperately needed to establish some heterosexual credibility at this juncture. Just then, a bonnie lass strode out of the tavern. Wilde approached her with great confidence, saying, "My my, your tollywompers are looking splendid this afternoon." She, in turn, froze solid, and screeched for a wretched hag who stood behind her. "Mother! Did you hear the filth this man hath speweth?" The old hag took out a can of Cheez Whiz, and sprayed poor Wilde all up and down his body. As he turned to run out of the neighborhood, the surprisingly speedy hag produced a can of Silly String™ and began to blast him. Panting, Wilde wept bitterly, tears smearing the cheese as he wailed, "Do you not know who I am, foul succubus?" Alas, his protestations fell on deaf ears. Desperate, and with no viable alternative, Wilde dropped his trousers and let loose a mighty wind from his arse, hoping to scare off the wench. The fart was so foul, it caused the heathenish woman to faint, and all nearby birds to fly from their perches in terror. "This is why I eat roast-beef sandwiches from Arby's," Wilde exclaimed, now utterly victorious.