ƒnƒCƒ‰ƒCƒg‚Í"Let's cut the crap"

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How I met your mother ƒV[ƒYƒ“8yŒ´‘čzBand or DJ?

And it turns out, spaghettis are men.I saw a noodle.

He said no?

Yeah, I don't know what we're gonna do.

Relax, baby.I got this.I know how to be persuasive.

persuasive ŕ“ž—Í‚Ě‚ ‚é

The next day, Uncle Barney met Robin's dad for lunch at the same restaurant.This time, with a plan.

Hello, Mr.Scherbatsky.I think we got off on the wrong foot.

get off on the wrong foot o‚ž‚ľ‚ĹŽ¸”s‚ˇ‚é

You have my attention.

I left the meatball at home so I could talk to you spaghetti to spaghetti.Sir I'm very serious about marrying your daughter.

Barney, when I wanted to marry Robin's mother, I slaughtered a whole family of bears with my bare hands.I gave the pelts and the bear meat to her father as tribute.You know what we call that in Canada? Manners.

slaughter ‹sŽE‚ˇ‚é pelts ś”ç as a tribute to ŒhˆÓ‚đ•\‚ľ‚Ä

Would either of you like a mudslide?

I just had one.Thank you.

I'll have a Jazzy Pizzazzy Razzleberry Rainbow Milkshake with a swirly straw?

You didn't say the magic word.I'll go get your drink.

Still crying, huh?

Yeah.We've tried everything short of a pack of smokes and a cup of coffee.Still nothing but clean dipeys.

There's only one explanation for this.Marvin has potty-trained himself.He sneaks into the bathroom while we're sleeping.I'll ask Barney to check the tapes.

Barney has cameras in our bathroom?!

Well, I mean, don't you think?

Hey, guys.

Robin, good.You're here.Bad news.That wedding band you wanted is booked for May 25.

Oh, no.What are you gonna do? Oh! Oh, hey! Here's an idea.

Oh, God, Ted, if you suggest a DJ

Far from it.I was going to suggest a band.A band called Kool and the Gang.Robin, would you like for me to get Kool and the Gang to play at your wedding?

Uh I yeah, guess so.

And would it be okay if they invited their friends, Beyonce and-and ABBA, and the Bee Gees, and Journey, and Queen? What? You're? What are you say? How how is that even possible? I'll tell you how.You hire a DJ.Wicka-wicka-wicka-burn.

Ugh! God, this is, like, the fifteenth time my dad has sent me a friend request.I'm just gonna hit accept.

No, no, no.

No, no, no, no, don't do it, Robin.You don't want to see what's behind that door.

What are you talking about?

He's talking about my mom's 2,000-word review of Fifty Shades of Grey.And 14 of those words were vulva.

You're gonna get endless requests to play some game that has something to do with gangsters and farming.

Never mind the embarrassing cheerleading photos from high school.

Begged my mom to burn those.

Robin, trust me, no good can come from accepting that friend request.

Yeah, I-I think I may have given you guys the wrong impression.Okay, my dad is actually not that bad of a guy.

Do it, Barney.Squeeze that trigger.

I don't want to do this.

Well, you think I wanted to kill that bear?

Yeah, kind of.

Oh, yeah, you're right.

I can't do this.

Oh.

What what the hell is this?!

Your dad is crazy! He wanted me to kill Fluffernutter!

I told you not to give him a name!

Well, I did! I gave him a name and a backstory! He comes from a magical rabbit warren underneath the old rusty tractor.He was the runt of the litter, but he persevered.He

runt of the litter ˆę”ԏŹ‚ł‚˘ persevere ‘Ď‚Ś‚é

Oh, give me this.Give it to me!

Dad, is there, um, something you want to tell me?

Well, in the early '80s, I did some wet work for the CIA.

Yes, Daddy, I remember the bedtime stories.No, I'm, uh, talking about your Facebook page? It says you're married.

Well yes, uh, Carol and I were in Key Largo at a performance of the recording artist James Buffett.We're what are known as Parrotheads.And, uh, well, one thing led to the other, and, uh we got married.

You didn't want to tell me about it?

I Facebooked it on Facebook.

Okay, you know what, Dad? Since you obviously have no interest in involving me in your personal life, I may as well tell you: Barney and I are already engaged.

That's right.I'm behind you on this, Robin.Directly behind you.

Anyway, this is happening.And since I wasn't invited to your wedding, you're not invited to mine.Good-bye.

Oh, no! Fluffernutter peed all over my pants!

So, I just called up that wedding band's road manager to get the number of the people who booked them for the 25th, so I could bribe them into giving up the band.

You did what?! That is so dishonest! No matter what happens next, I think we can all agree, you're in the wrong here, Lily.

It's your number, Ted.

All right, you got me! I put a non-refundable deposit on that band to keep Barney and Robin from booking them.And I would've gotten away with it if it wasn't a really stupid and expensive plan.

Dude, why would you do that? I don't see what the big deal is.

The big deal is Robin deserves better than some crappy, unreliable band! Sure, bands seem cool with their nice suits and their well-rehearsed moves, but let's be honest: bands let you down.They-They cheat, they deceive, and God knows they've slept with every girl in New York City.I just, I can't believe Robin is going through with marrying the idea of getting a band.And that is, that's a perfectly normal way to phrase that.

Okay, Ted, bar.Now.

Nice try.You're gonna stick me with that baby so that you guys can spend five minutes sorting out his love life, followed by an hour of you getting drunk and pretending to be in The Departed.

You know what? I'm sorry, Lily, okay? But I just need to know: Are you a cop?

I'm not a cop!

Are you a cop?

I'm not a cop!

Uh-uh.I got this.Ted, you, me, upstairs.Roof.Now.

What? It's January.

Move!

Let's cut the crap.We're both freezing-just say it and we can go downstairs.

Let's cut the crap ‚­‚ž‚ç‚Č‚˘˜b‚Í‚â‚ß‚Ü‚ľ‚傤

Say what?

Say how much you hate that Robin and Barney are getting married.

What? No.I I'm happy for them.I-I encouraged Robin to go after Barney.

I know-because you thought you were okay letting her go.But now that she's really gone, it hurts.

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