Pseudo New Yorker

Legal humor here.

“No, we ain’t lookin’ for the Port Authority. Ha, ha, ha. We just want to sell a little wool. Is that such a crime?”

“Move it, folks. My gals are tired of your big city lights.”

“Damn it, I’m guessing this ain’t the Weehawken Ferry. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

“Where’s the damn sheep-shearing contest? I’m sorry, but I’m startin’ to get a little riled.”

“Can the wisecracks. My gals are strictly legit. Now make way or I’ll make you make way.”

“A ticket to Jersey Boys gets you the whole flock. And, yes, they’ve had their shots!”

“Just tell me how to get to the Park, OK? You have an honest face, don’t you?”

“Listen, I’ve got to get uptown. The revival of Green Pastures starts in thirty minutes!”

“You can’t miss her! She answers to ‘Belle’! You folks know what a sheep looks like, don’t you?”

“Seriously, they’re like dogs that live on grass! Who wouldn’t like to snuggle up to 100% wool at night when you’re feeling lonely? Twenty bucks makes it happen.”