phynancial gentlemen. santa claus, wheel in the phynancial wheelbarrow. mercy, lord ubu, have pity on us. we're poor simple people. i couldn't care less. pay up. but we can't. we've already paid. fork out, or i'll give you the works, good and proper, torture, twisting of the neck and decap-cap-cap-cap- capitation. horn strumper, am i or am i not your king? oh, in that case, to arms, fellows. long live boggerlas, by the grace of god, king of poland and lithuania. [music] forward, phynancial gentlemen. do your duty. [chanting ubu, ubu, ubu] well, citizen, you are in a fine pickle, aren't you? you wanted me to pay you back what i owed you, and when i refused, you rebelled and plotted against me. and where did that get you? in jerky, hornboodle. take care, treacherous old ubu. in the five days since you've been king, you've committed more crimes and murders than it would take to damn all the saints in paradise. [music] gentlemen, i declare this meeting open. i'd like to say, our phynances are in a fairly good state. in every direction, there is a vista of bur