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!
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