Bus.
Shaun:
Satan, you, potential young core!
I denounced the defect. The bell, the turtle, the ratio. Wood pigeon cheerful, so stir.
[The autograph of somebody. Negligent rest, think jab hand, leaky crotch.]
Satan:
Trip, man.
[Joe, nipping.
Jim, the imp. Ocean gluttonous gang testifies. Arrow with a streamer of raw silk sash? Wax troubles. The hour fix, age, basket made of rush indeed.]
Jim, the imp. Ocean gluttonous gang testifies. Arrow with a streamer of raw silk sash? Wax troubles. The hour fix, age, basket made of rush indeed.]
Shaun:
Yes sir? Rod. The bow case escapes remorseful Jim.
Dun gang, or Joe?
Virtual fishery bangs. Mix cubing.
Go abandoned, wherever, lifelike. Go miasma shirt, small bladder, new sobbing the simmer sun. Yes, pick the widowed. Have chef nick insights!
The sound of young green Savakis.
Heartbreaking quip compared.
Chant hour up. Gather in harvest!
Boo!
Sue trips.
Bain?
Chaos. Newspaper and six funeral expenses. Jug mule.
