Well, the Mouth of Sauron couldn't bloody well have a conversation like...
MoS: I am the Mouth of...ahem.
Gandalf: Beg pardon? The Mouth? The Mouth of whom?
MoS: You know.
Aragorn: Ummm...I am afraid we don't.
MoS: Oh come on! Him -- you know -- HIM!
Gandalf: You are not being very clear.
MoS: You know, the Big Guy.
Aragorn: Is he referring to a Troll?
Gimli: Could be. Troll's need someone to speak for them.
Legolas: Aye, they are very inarticulate.
MoS: No, no, no! I am the Mouth of Sssssss...of Sssss...oh damn!
Gandalf: Sssss?
Pippin: Sam!
Gimli: No! What would a Hobbit need with another mouth? They have one too many already!
Gandalf: This is getting us nowhere. What we need is someone who can speak for Sauron.
Pippin: Why, can't he speak for himself?
MoS: Sighs...
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And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulders of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
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