Busy Old Fool, Unruly Sophie

Busy Old Fool, Unruly Sophie

I Only Want To Catch You,” Michael Explained. “i Won’t Hurt You.” “no! No!” The Star Crackled Desperately. “that’s Wrong! I’m Supposed To Die!” “but I Could Save You If You’d Let Me Catch You,” Michael Told It Gently. “no!” Cried The Star. “i’d Rather Die!

Nothing Is Safe From You. If I Were To Court A Girl Who Lived On An Iceberg In The Middle Of The Ocean, Sooner Or Later— Probably Sooner— I’d Look Up To See You Swooping Overhead On A Broomstick. In Fact, By Now I’d Be Disappointed In You If I Didn’t See You.” “are You Off To The Iceberg Today?” Sophie Retorted.

Look. Survey. Inspect. My Hair Is Ruined! I Look Like A Pan Of Bacon And Eggs!

Pray Use Both Cats As Sponges If It Pleases You, Infatuated Infantryman.