Movie Anyone

Zesty zippy zombie sat checking out the Yummy yuppie Yankee that was wiggly wishy washy but wealthy as he could be. And even so vary vainly vaguely unfree. Till one day, a Tuesday I believe, the tiny twiggy twenty year old named Tracy Tori Tory was watching the toothy toughie trickster zombie sitting under the thistly thorny thickly ugly tree, watching our Yankee. Now strangely she was a strongly sturdy sweetie, and sweetly but swiftly suavely went to see the Yankee to let him know of the scummy squirmy spooky zombie checking him out under the seedy shaggy shabby little tree. Now to show his appreciation he was really ready to rarely ask this queenly quirky quaintly lady to promptly go purely proudly puddle popping on their way to a preppy peachy pearly pastry bar with oddly the only oldie oozy pastries in the nutty nightly nearly neatly town of Nietzsche where monthly a mystery mushy movie played. Since they were both loony lofty lefty laddie and lady and lastly the lengthy lively lovely movie was about to play, he keenly kindly knightly ask her in a jolly jiggly juicy way if she was iffy itchy interested in this imaginatively happy haughty history movie. Well in her giggly giddy goofy funny funky flirty easy earthy earthly duly dizzy ducky cutely cuddly crazy bubbly briskly bravely aussie arty amply way, said …….. NO!