Beaver and Woodchuck were chatting down at the local bar on a Friday evening.
Woodchuck was trying to be patient and get a word in, but Beaver kept going on and on about the pond where his family lived—how wide and deep it was, how much protection it provided, and so on.
After about an hour, Woodchuck had had enough and yelled out in frustration, “Could you please stop talking about your dammed river?!”
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