Bob: There. That's The Last Condom Wrapper.
[a Jet Flies By, Blowing All The Neatly Piled Trash Away]
Oh, I Renew My Objection To This Pointless Endeavor!
Bob: There. That's the last condom wrapper.
[a jet flies by, blowing all the neatly piled trash away]
Oh, I renew my objection to this pointless endeavor! Informally
now and by affidavit later. Time permitting.
Wiggum: Shut your word hole! We've got to get this place clean for the
air show.
Bob: Air show? Buzz-cut Alabamians spewing colored smoke from their
whiz jets to the strains of "Rock You Like A Hurricane?" What
kind of countrified rube is still impressed by that?
-- Need he ask the question?,
"Sideshow Bob's Last Gleaming"
