[Orgo turns a switch, and the cake hits Soul in the face.
The demons laugh]
FTOOMSCH: Oh dear! We spilt it!
ORGO: Oh, dear! Oh, dear!
FTOOMSCH: Who's a naughty boy? We'll have to get
that cleaned up. 'Ere, Orgo?
ORGO: Yes, Footmer?
FTOOMSCH: FTOOMSCH! [hits Soul]
SOUL: Ftoomsch!
FTOOMSCH: Ere, pass me that can of Lager. [Orgo does so. Ftoomsch shakes the can] We'll soon have it all cleaned up!