Oi, da Staf’ ‘eah.  So da ovva day, dese German cunts come up to me an dey’s loike, “Oi, Staf’, ‘ow’d you loike ta do da fock’n commersho for dese fock’n cahs?”

An a course Oy’s loike, “Oi, if it’s a flash sazz wagon you cunts is troyin’ ta sell, den you ‘as come ta da roight place, now ‘aven’t you?”

An so den Oy invoites dem down ta film whoilst Oy’s droivin fru billboards an doin’ fock’n jumps an aw dat – just your av’rage Fursday for da Staf’, innit.  An da result is what you see heah, donnit.  Now, da Staf knows what your finkin’: “Oi, Staf’, what ‘appened to dat fit bird in da rolla shoes?”  Well, whoilst da Staf’ ain’t one ta kiss an’ tell, long story short, Oy knobbed ‘er.  Now, Oy donnow whoy dey ain’ put dat paht in da bloody commersho, now doesn’ dey?  When Oy first found out da knobbin weren’ in dere, Oy wiz so angry dat Oy took moy shir’ off an pulled down dis buildin wif moy bare ‘ands. But den later after Oy’s calmed down a bit, Oy felt bad. So dat noight, Oy rebuilt it.

[Thanks to Justin for the tip]