Oi'm sorry moi dear, oi've bin stuck on me combine, makin' 'ay whoile the sun shoines. As fer thee, Darth Vader, you'm can naff off roit now. Ole' Jacob moit not 'ave any flash loit sabres, but you'ms'll underestimate the moity power of a well-wielded manglewurzel at yer peril. You leaves moi luvvly abigail alone afore oi dumps me 'aybale on you. Then see what does that to yer asthma.
See abigail, oi moit be out on me combine, but me 'eart is 'ere with thee, and me passion knows no bounds. 'Cept oi've forgotten 'ow to do them 'ere luv 'arts, but oi'll foind out again and send 'ee loads.