It was likeyou were the Arcade Mayor& I was happyto play your entouragebecause the wayjeans slung lowyour Hips groovedagainst that machineduring Strobe Multiballwas enough to send me rocketingto Mars myselfso bring on all the balls, babyI’m preparedfor Total Annihilation--
My response to Izy's Film School Dropout prompt is poem four of thirty in April!