It’s, Like, A Safety Bomb.” -iggy

Dreams Die Hard. And Sometimes They Don't Have To Die At All.

"i Feel Like, Like Pudding," Iggy Groaned. "pudding With Nerve Endings. Pudding In Great Pain."

Iggy: "i'll Grab A Zebra; Gaz, You Fill All The Bubbles With Your Trademark Scent. So People Are Choking And Gagging; And Let's Throw Beef Jerky In Their Eyes! Now, That's A Plan!

Why Was The Blind Guy Playing With Matches, You Ask? Because He's Good At It. Anything To Do With Fire, Igniting Things, Exploding Things, Things With Fuses, Wicks, Accelerants . . . Iggy's Your Man. It's One Of Those Good/bad Things.

It Sucked, But It Was Way Cool At The Same Time," Gazzy Said. "i Felt Like The Blue Angels!" "yeah, Except The Blue Angels Are An Extremely Well Funded, Well Equipped, Well Trained, Well Fed, And No Doubt Squeaky-clean Group Of Crack Navy Pilots," I Said. "and We're A Bunch Of Unfunded, Unequipped, Semitrained, Not Nearly Well Fed Enough, And Filthy Mongrel Avian-human Hybrids. But Other Than That, It's Exactly The Same.