IT'S TOO BIG! HOW DID YOU GET IT HERE?

FOR GOD'S SAKE!

- NO, LOOK, LOOK.
- FOUR WORDS.

WE'RE HAVING A HOEDOWN.

IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT?

RIGHT.

- YOU ALL RIGHT, LYNN?
- LYNN DOESN'T LIKE THE OLD WATERSPORTS.

OH.

- (CLEARS THROAT)
- SORRY. I'M NOT ENYA.

YES, I DO. AND THE BOOKS AREN'T BEING INCINERATED,
THEY'RE BEING PULPED.

IN THAT CASE, YOU'VE GOT YOURSELF A DEAL!
I'LL TAKE THE HOUSE.

I SUPPOSE THE SEQUEL WILL HAVE A MAN WITH A...

YOU'RE SEXY.

TO LOOK AT YOU, YOU'D THINK
YOU'D SING LIKE AN ANGEL,

"I SMELL THE BLOOD
OF AN UNGRATEFUL BUNCH OF BASTARDS."

EEEH! LYNN!

SORRY ABOUT THE SMELL OF URINE,
BUT THERE'S NOTHING TO DO ROUND HERE.

- IT'S AN ALIEN JUDGE.
- GOLLY.