“Watch me as I pull a rabbit out of this wolf,” were the last words the amateur magician crane said.
Pleasant Valley was not living up to its name. If one didn’t know better, one would think they were in Moroseville, or worse, Cleveland. The problem was, Princess Pringle was in a deep, deep funk, thus too, was every citizen of Pleasant Valley.
To paraphrase, Confucius, “If you ever plan to motor west, travel my way, take the highway that is best. Get your kicks on Route 66.”
Colitas Jones should have known better to be driving around while she was this pissed off. Instead of adjusting the rearview mirror, she snapped it off, which triggered a stream of negative thoughts about disposable cheap manufacturing.
Every time you drive on the highway, you run the risk of getting shot dead in a drive-by. The same is true when walking down the street. The lesson gleaned: stay inside and avoid falling down.
“Oh wow,” were Dr. Eggs Benedict’s final words after realizing the ketchup stain on his shirt began to gush blood. It was one of those stray bullets from a highway drive by. What were the odds of it hitting the stain? Seriously. Instinctively, he turned up the radio.
How now unibrow?
Everyone called him Bert; when in actuality, his name was George. He had an intense unibrow, an exaggerated orange oval nose, a tuft of black hair atop his head, and yellow skin. To offset his rather oblong face, he always wore a vertical striped shirt, which also had a slimming effect.
The sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
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