Not to be confused with Wilma, Pebbles, or Dino. My name is Fred. It's always been.
Cause I'm the most prehistoric Cro-Magnon you ever seen. I dress in fur. Yes, orange fur from head to toes. Count my toes up. One, two, three, and four.
I start my car.
Go so far.
Go to pick up Barney Rubble, cause he's so bizarre.
Two-foot-six and weird as Hell. Got to get to work before that bird starts to yell.
My name is Fred, but call me William-Hanna-Joe-Barbera-Jackie-Gleason, that's long for Fred, so I've been told.
Told to me by that Mr. Slate, that yells at me. He's angry and mean and old. I work my crane.
Headache pain.
Get me an aspirin for the brain of my dinosaur's working strain. I love to bowl.
I love my wife.
She does just what I say because you know I run her life, we had our words. She will abide.
So she made me eat my dinner sittin' on the curb on the street outside. My name is Fred.