as they marched out on their way to band practice to get fitted for new hats to hide foam rollers in, as the athletic director was very against the band members having smooth fascia and demanded they have sore muscles while the football team played.

But then the room became sullen, like a community member meeting for sheep that are hearing a ruling about to be declared and are asked to speak now or forever hold their fleece.

the designer music shop that sold status cymbals.

like a blustered Bostonian sheep blubbering about being sheared at the ba ba

The hummingbird realized that this was a psychological tightrope that he had to navigate carefully, so he did it sideways because this was the only way he could move when perched

as he buzzed his wings with excitement, eyeing and eyeyanging the containers more closely, which he always did when looking at anything because he used both the dark and light part of his eyes to see.

like a person who musts up the courage to take part in a tomahawk throwing competition only for their shoulder to lock into place, straining a vein and looking like you’re posing for a portrait that would probably look even more badass if you had signed up to be the nude model in an art class which takes a lot of courage unless you’re already vain.

He had been thrown into the dungeon after refusing to accept that ‘bridegroom’ was no longer an acceptable term to call a groom. Needless to say, he had been there quite a long time.

And to make matters worse, the two deer shining the lanterns inside the ambulance’s headlights were tired and explained through an intercom system that would not be working again until the morning.