All is in Blunderland
"Hey, er, no sweat, Monkeyman. I see you're a cool frood who knows where his towel is. Groovy." He turns to The Bear. "Well, Baby, catch you next time. Hey, er, Ford?!? Trillian?!?"
And with that, the mysterious alien is gone.
Newly confident, you turn back to Barbolga, who is looking decidedly less attractive than you recall, "Hey, er, you seem... different."
"What you mean? What different?"
"Well," you say, "For one thing, I don't remember you having quite so much facial hair before."
"Different but same?"
"Noooo, different but different. Say what's in this drink?"
"Drink feel bad. Heal good."
"Hey, errrrr, you're not a Russian girl."
"Hit nail on head."
"Where did she go?"
"Young bee want young flower, get old prune, hahahahaha!"
Your eyes are feeling heavy now, and where once sat a beautiful Russian spy, the small, elderly Asian throws his head back and laughs, and then everything starts to go dark.
And with that, the mysterious alien is gone.
Newly confident, you turn back to Barbolga, who is looking decidedly less attractive than you recall, "Hey, er, you seem... different."
"What you mean? What different?"
"Well," you say, "For one thing, I don't remember you having quite so much facial hair before."
"Different but same?"
"Noooo, different but different. Say what's in this drink?"
"Drink feel bad. Heal good."
"Hey, errrrr, you're not a Russian girl."
"Hit nail on head."
"Where did she go?"
"Young bee want young flower, get old prune, hahahahaha!"
Your eyes are feeling heavy now, and where once sat a beautiful Russian spy, the small, elderly Asian throws his head back and laughs, and then everything starts to go dark.