Look, Cliff, it’s Christmas day. A day of unbridled happiness and joy. You’re riding around posing for photos on a hovercraft, no doubt a gift from a loving family member. You should be happy Cliff, your eyes should exude warmth. But they’re not exuding warmth are they Cliff? No. They are lifeless. They are flatlining. They are a pair of blackened windows to your hollow soul. Cheer up old sport. You’ve got a hovercraft to play on. And you don’t look a day over fifteen.
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