“[singing] Here we come / On the run / With a burger on a bun / And a dab of coleslaw on the side / Oh, your tastes we will tickle / With a cold dill pickle / And all of our potatoes are French fried, fried, fried / Our burgers can't be beat / Cuz we grind our own meat / Grind, grind, grind, grind, grind! [BOOM!] When you drive away... / A tip upon our tray... / We hope to find, find, find, find, find / We hope to find, find, find, find, fi-i-ind!”
More from Warren Foster
“Wilma Flintstone: [arguing about money] I work hard around here and I'm willing to do…”
“All right. All right. I can't make it as fast as you spend it. I admit it, so let's call…”
“[dancing with a high society lady] You sure shake a mean leg, toots!”
“If you scrub with 'Sudsy-Wudsy', you'll wash away the Mudsy-Mudsies...”