CrAzY oLd MiStEr FaRbFiNkElStEiN aNd HiS wHaCkY mAGiCaL 90s m&m PhOnE

"Just hold that happy thought, Peter..." Peter's attorney, one Mister Shmul Farbfinkelstein, held up a single finger before picking up his gold plated, pigtail style, early 90s m&m's phone that he'd had retrofitted so as to not be a piece of novelty junk, but instead a secured landline.

"Uh... okay, not a problem." It was a problem. Shmul had been blowing off his concerns about his case all morning.

"Uh huh... yeah... okay..." Shmul picked up an unfished pastrami on rye that had been sitting on his desk and began to bite into it.

"SHE'S ALIVE?!" Suddenly Mister Farbfinkelstein exploded into a fit of rage, shouting in Yiddish in the hopes that Peter might not understand him. The sandwich went flying into the air and landed somewhere on the floor, disintegrating into its many pieces.

Little did he know, however, that Peter spoke impeccable German, a language not at all removed from Yiddish, save for some Hebrew terms here and there, terms such as schmuck, schmegeckel, and schmegoikin, all terms for a pimmel, a schlange or a schwanz.

"I told you to have her disassembled and tossed into the fucking Hudson, you FICHEN SCWANZKOPF!" There was a pause as Peter raised an eyebrow like that one gnome meme.

"No you schmuck, I didn't tell you to let her out of the trunk of your car to run around New York as if she was your best, good friend, you worthless..." he readjusted his yarmulke just as it showed his bald spot.

"...okay, listen, you know where she is. Hit up Shlomo Dinkelferber's old Misyer Potato-latke-head lookin' self, and have him toss her in a tub of acid..." he paused. "Uh huh... okay... alright." He paced a bit.

"Alright, I've got some stupid schmuck client here, and I'm trying to waste his time to run up the clock so he pays me more... okay... alright... and bring me a new pastrami later, I broke mine because you're a stupid idiot!"

"Sorry, where were we?" He asked Peter after slamming the phone down and sitting across from him.

"Uhm... I was just talking about how I didn't murder that girl and feed her to sharks... but like..." Peter's demeanor changed. "If you're into that sort of thing???" Peter gave him a confidently inquisitive look.

"Ah, sprechst du Judischer Deutsch?"

"Nein, normal Deutsch, aber es ist nicht so anders."

"Welcome to the team brother!" Mr. Farbfinkelstein extended his hand, Peter extended his, then Mr. Farbfinkelstein pulled out a pistol and blew Peter's head off.

"Here we go again!" He said rolling his eyes, as he picked up his secured landline, gold plated, 90s m&m phone and made a call.