I was bored at the ball. C’mom, what is there really to do? And all those stuff gowns and pompous princes thinking they are some kind of deity’s gift to humankind.
We might play if the rules are fair.
Some pumpkin head monster said this.
It’s the most unfair situation anyone has seen.
I snuck into the kitchen. A jug of peanut butter had my name on it.
It was perfect. I was perfect. You, are not.
Just tell that godmother chick I went for a walk.
Later.