Farmer (chewing a stalk of straw): That’s one right humble woodchuck y’got y’se’f there, Doc.
Dr J: Yep. We raise ‘em that way, right from a chucklet.
Farmer (scoping out the creature with a practiced eye): How much y’reckon you’d take for that’un right there?
Dr J: What -- Harry? O no, Harry’s not for sale. Too durn humble.
Farmer (he’s an old hand at this): Nice pelt… little undersized, though… What would y’say to a hundred simoleons?
Dr J: But you jest! Look at that glittering eye, that cute short tail --
Farmer: Yes, and those legs like stumpy thumbs. Two hun’erd and that’s my final word.
Dr J (rubbing his stubble): Hmmm…. Two… hundred… ‘course someone offered me twice that just t’other day, but I like your looks, so okay -- deal.
Harry the Humble Woodchuck (bristling indignantly): A measly two hundred?! Are you out of your mind?!?!?! For me???!!! ME ??!!!!!!!!!
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