My wife tells me this story of our oldest from before I met them and they still lived in South Dakota. He apparently picked up his grandma's road rage because he was in the car with her so often. But he didn't understand the concept of a drive through yet since he was like 3 and still rear facing.

Imagine someone made a soundboard of Butters from South Park where every word was very clearly from wildly different conversations and contexts so the tone was all over the place. Now imagine someone awkwardly pecking at that soundboard to make it say this: "Move it buddy! The light is green. I know it. I need my Potato Ole's!"