Conversations With Bud

Me: Get out of there. NOW!
Bud: Sure. As soon (lick) as I finish up (smack) this last bit of key lime (slurp) pie.
Me: GET OU...what? Canines hate citrus.
Bud: You and your generalizations. My refined palate delights in the occasional dalliance with a tart fruit. (Burp)
Me: Riiiight. Are you done?
Bud: Hang on...I need something to wash this down. Your crust was a bit dry. Ah, yes! A beer.
Me: Bud. Get your paws off the fridge. NOW.
Bud: Sheesh! I'm thirsty. What do you want me to do?
Me: Go get a drink out of your bowl.
Bud: Water? No thanks. That stuff's for bathing. And the groomer isn't due for another month.