The all too familiar opening chords of Europe's The Final Countdown sounded and after a short delay for dramatic effect, GOB danced out onto the auditorium stage. He pulled blue and gold handkerchief chains out of both sleeves (which was difficult with a hand still in a cast) until the chains clearly met in the middle underneath his shirt. A large
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Joxer the Mighty,
Master of virility,
Every woman wants him,
He's so sexy it's a sin,
If you want a special tryst,
He's the man you can't resist,
By every measure he's a prize!
Just check out my shoe size!
Just check out my shoe size!
A-Ha!
And then, Joxer goes into a wailing lute solo. Well, as much as one can wail on a lute. And as much as Joxer's mediocre musical talents alow.
"Second verse, not the same as the first!"
Joxer the Mighty,
Capain of debauchery
Never seems to get enough,
Of their tantalizing stuff
If you need some company,
With Joxer there's a guarantee,
Of the highest potency!
He's Joxer, Joxer the Mighty!
He ended with a flourish and a bow.
"Thank you, Thank you."
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Could great men thunder
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet,
For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder;
Nothing but thunder! Merciful Heaven,
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
Spli-
Cordelia furrowed her brows and cleared her throat again.
Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled oak
Than the soft myrtle: but man, proud man,
Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assured.
His glassy essence, like an angry ape,
Plays such fantastic tricks before high heaven
As make the angels weep; who, with our spleens,
Would all themselves laugh mortal.
Cordelia paused for a moment, thinking really hard on why angels would want to steal humans' spleens.
Then she curtseyed.
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