The Moon on a Stick
I scream, you scream, we all scream for Starscream.
Also, this took far too long to make.
This past holiday season I was out shopping with my ginger gal, and I get a call from my sister. She informs me that she was in the middle of a conversation with Shmi about the beloved Decepticon Prince. My father was present, and to make a long story short his alphabet has different letters and sounds then the rest of ours. He only half listens to Shmi & my sister, for they are women and he is still a Marine, but the weight of the conversation is palpable, like when people talk about Kennedy being shot. So my dad interjects with a bellowing “Who?!” He’s given the short answer, to which he replies “And Hutch?” From that day forth, the Private Investigation Firm of Starscream & Hutch has been open for business. Whatever comets space dust infected my father seems to have struck you as well. A plus gold star and such for your artistic prowess.
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