We’ll never sober the old cunt up in time to fly that thing. Aurora Borealis.
Mary Christmas: “Oh dear, sweetheart, I don’t think that there’s anything I can do about them…What were those lottery numbers again?”
The stage darkens.
We’ll never sober the old cunt up in time to fly that thing. Aurora Borealis.
Mary Christmas: “Oh dear, sweetheart, I don’t think that there’s anything I can do about them…What were those lottery numbers again?”
The stage darkens.