Cuts
back and forth.
William Shatner on potassium.
Pity pecker presses
the agendas. She wants apple pie
But
wait a tic
her finger ringed suggests this wedding
is the girls, not unlike
the dresses, flowers, or her hair.
Pie?
Apple pie.
But Mrs. Roberts, I would really
I mean—traditional...
We—Joe and I—would like a cake
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