We never asked for it to end this way. Alas...
Wall-E here is getting all kinds of feelings that he didn't know he could feel before.
Such confidence, such poise, such magnificent moobs.
I mean, what happened to the old days when you just went down to the boardwalk, avoided teenagers selling drugs, and played skee-ball on a cloudy Sunday afternoon?
Papa always said "never insult the fashion decisions of a lady with a firearm," and though there's no magazine in that machine gun I'm not going to take any chances.
And clearly you both needed some more sunscreen. Let that molting skin be a reminder that we didn't come to the Pearl Jam concert to see this.
I mean, you couldn't go to the beach looking like a total embarrassment, could you?
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