Mr. Leprosy: Excuse me? I am not going to jump.
Mr. Pickle: No? Then why are you out here on the ledge?
Mr. Leprosy: Just to get a spot of fresh air, and take in the sights.
Mr. Pickle: So... you sure you won't jump?
Mr. Leprosy: Positive. I shall not jump. Not today.
Mr. Pickle: Tomorrow then? I could always come back tomrorow.
Mr. Leprosy: Look, it was just a figure of speech. I do not plan on jumping in the near future.
Mr. Pickle: Umm.. could you give me a rough idea of when you plan on jumping? Five years? Ten years? I'm not sure.
Mr. Leprosy: Listen you furry little twit, I am NOT going to jump. Not today, not EVER! I WILL NOT JUMP!!
Mr. Pickle: So.... no jumping?
Mr. Leprosy: No!!! Are you made of wood? I am NOT going to jump.
Mr. Pickle: Well.... why not jump? Too good for jumping?
Mr. Leprosy: I didn't say that.
Mr. Pickle: You didn't say "Set my stomach on fire, either".
Mr. Leprosy: What's that got to do with anything!??!
Mr. Pickle: Nothing! That's just my point! You didn't say it!
Mr. Leprosy: I give up.
Mr. Pickle: So.. you'll jump then?
Mr. Leprosy: No! Now listen you slimy wibbly wobbly little shit! I WILL NOT JUMP!! AS GOD IS MY WITNESS! I WILL NOT JUMP!
Mr. Penguin: What's this? Is someone jumping?
Mr. Pickle: Naw..... this fellow's too SCARED to jump. Mentioned something about God. Think of that!
Mr. Penguin: WHAT A SHAMEFUL DAY!
Mr. Leprosy: Look, I am going to go back in. Get out of my way.
Mr. Pickle: Look mate, unless you jump, you're never getting back inside again.
Mr. Leprosy: Why that's ABSURD! I you saying that unless I jump, I can't go back in the building?
Mr. Pickle: That's right.
Mr. Penguin: Tea, anyone?
Mr. Leprosy: Look, both of you. I've had quite enough. Now...FUCK OFF!
Mr. Penguin: Ooooo. Someone's getting rude.
Mr. Leprosy: but WHY won't you let me come? WHy do you want me to jump?
Mr. Pickle: It's Tuesday.
Mr. Penguin: Ahhhh.....
Mr. Leprosy: I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!! GOODBYE, CRUEL WORLD!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!! (me. Leprosy jumps to his death)
Mr. Penguin: Right. That's a good chap. Now, what would you like in your tea?
Mr. Pickle: Cyanide, please.
Mr. Penguin: Right. Ta.