[Gwynne]
When rich folks war, who dies?

[Chef]
The poor

[Gwynne]
On that you can depend
So obviously for you and me
There's only one way this can end
Let's see: appetizers, salads...aha!
Let's spike the soup with some arsenic

[Chef]
What?

[Gwynne]
Just a few droplets like thus
Serve and each blue blood will die as they spew blood
A happy ending for us

[Chef]
Gosh!

[Gwynne]
How 'bout a pie full of cyanide?
Can you imagine the fuss?
Cramps, diarrhea, convulsions
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