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Toad:
[flags down Reggie, the motorist] I say, I wonder if you could help me. Having a spot of bother with me car.
Reggie: Oh? Wh-wh-what sort of bother?
Toad: Um... em... it's the... uh... crankshaft... it's um... flat.
Reggie: Really? Ah ha... I should be able to fix that.
Reggie's Wife: Oh, shall I come too Reggie?
[gets out of the car] Uh. Wh-wh-wh-where's your machine?
Toad:
[gestures to a spot behind him] Oh... it's over there. If you'd just take a look at it?
Reggie: Oh c-certainly old bean. Anything for a fellow motorist.
[as soon as they move away from their car, Mr. Toad gets in, puts it in gear and drives away] Oh, I say!
[They see Mr. Toad driving down the road erratically, laughing, honking the horn]
Reggie's Wife: Oh. Reggie.
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Mole:
[after crashing his second car] You know, I really am worried about Toad.
Rat: Oh, don't you worry. It's just another one of his passions. He'll grow out of it.
Toad:
[off in the distance] Poop-poop!
Rat: I hope.