Alfred Van Winkle
"Wait..." Alfred stroked his immensely long beard thoughtfully. "So you mean to say England, is like, outta here?"
The man shook his head suspiciously, wondering what this guys deal was. "Yes... for a while now."
"AW YEAH!" Alfred exclaimed ecstatically, jumping up and down, "Down with the king dude and tea and in with DEMOCRACY!" Alfred raised his hand up to the guy he was talking to, expecting a high five. "Up top!" The man only gave him a look of confusion. "Down low?" Alfred asked confusedly, "Bro fist?" he looked around at all the faces who were staring at him with wonder and slight concern. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!?"
Of Mice and Bros
"Alfred," George said sternly, "Give me that mouse."
Alfred whined childishly, "But Broski! He's, like, the best mouse EVER!"
George sighed exasperatedly, "I don't care if he's the president. Just get rid of that there mouse!"
"NEVER!" And with that, Alfred proceeded to a) pretend to be a fighter plane, b) act like he had a lightsaber, and c) scream, "DUUUUDE! FREEDOM OF HOLDING MICE! IT'S IN THE CONSTITUTION!"
To Kill a Mocking Dude
"Take him, Mr. Jones." Mr. Tate handed the gun to Alfred.
A humongous smile spread across his face as he said joyfully,"All right! Watch carefully, Jem and Scout, 'cause your daddy's the master at RPG shooters!" Everyone stared him strangely, but because of how tense the situation was, they didn't think too much of it. Alfred pushed his glasses to his forehead and in a swift movement, his hand yanked a lever as he brought the gun to his shoulder. The rifle cracked and the dog, Tim Johnson, fell. Alfred let out a battle cry. "OHHHHHHHH!"