A precious little girl walks into a pet shop and asks, in the sweetest
little lisp, between two missing teeth, "Excuthe me, mithter, do you keep
widdle wabbits? "

As the shopkeeper's heart melts, he gets down on his knees so that he's on
her level and asks, "Do you want a widdle white wabbit, or a thoft and fuwwy
bwack wabbit, or maybe one like that cute widdle bwown wabbit over there? "

She, in turn, blushes, rocks on her heels, puts her hands on her knees,
leans forward and says, in a tiny quiet voice, "I don't think my python
weally gives a thit. "