Llamas with Hats 4/Script

Paul: Carl, you've tracked mud all over the carpet!

Carl: Now that right there is a mess.

Paul: I just had it cleaned yesterday, Carl.

Carl: I'm not responsible for this. I've been jamming on the saxophone all morning.

Paul: They're clearly your hoofprints, Carl.

Carl: That there is an importer on the loose!

Paul: They lead directly to you!

Carl: Clue #1, the imposter is a phantom.

Paul: Carl, stop before--

(explosion)

Paul: Caaaaaaaaaaaarl!

Carl: Happy Birthday!

Paul: It's not, please tell me you have nothing to do with this.

Carl: Why don't you blow out your candle?

Paul: You've gone too far this time, Carl.

Carl: What's that? It's hard to hear you over the sound of melting city.

Paul: How did you even do this?

Carl: A dollop of fairy dust.

Paul: Carl--

Carl: I ripped the tag off a mattress.

Paul: This isn't funny, Carl!

Carl: Who's laughing? Clear that all the people who just exploded--

Paul: I'm leaving. I've had enough of this.

Carl: But think of all the perfectly roasted faces we get to munch on now.

Paul: What, why?

Carl: Because we're friends, and friendship is two pals munching on a well-cooked face together.

Paul: That isn't friendship, Carl. That's sick.

Carl: Well then you're probably not gonna like your birthday decoration.

Paul: It's not even my-- oh my God!

Carl: Surprise!

Paul: Oh, oh no! Ew!

Carl: I'm sorry. I thought you like faces. Obviously, there's a miscommunication.

Paul: This is awful, Carl.

Carl: You're right. It's not nearly as tasty as I pictured in my head.

Paul: I think I'm gonna throw up-- oh, God! One touched me!