“Rain drop.”
…
“Hey, Jer. Rain drop.”
…
“Jer! Rain drop!”
…
“Aw, c’mon. Rain–”
“Drop top, Weir.”
“–drop. See? Wasn’t that fun?”
“It was something.”
“We should do it onstage tonight.”
“We’ll see.”
“Aw. That always means no.”
“It does, yeah.”
Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To
© 2021 Thoughts On The Dead
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That’s not the briefcase of infinite felonies, is it?
It most certainly is.
I guess “Bob, A Head, Landau” doesn’t have the same ring to it.
I have never claimed not to overuse poetic license.
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