We have dance power!
When the crypt goes creak,
And the tombstones quake.
Spooks come out for a swinging wake.
Happy haunts materialize,
And begin to vocalize.
Grim grinning ghosts come out to socialize.
Did you have a dance circle?
The prince is having a ball!
Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggety dog,
We’re taking off, we’re dancing now.
Heh, heh, c’mon Pluto!
He’s the greatest dog in the world.
He’s a tramp, he’s a scoundrel
He’s a rounder, he’s a cad
He’s a tramp, but I love him
Yes, even I have got it pretty bad
Fire? So that’s what that scoundrel’s after.
Fire the cannon, Mr. Smee!
Wow, Grimsley, that’s…really something.
The angle of the trajectory multiplied by the square root of an isosceles triangle…[mumbling]…dividing Guttermeg’s principle of opposing forces in motion [more mumbling] and adjusting for the difference in equilibrium… Dawson, at the exact moment I tell you, we must release the triggering mechanism! Get ready, Dawson, steady… now!
I felt so confident going into that sentence.
Three oinkers wearing pants, plate of hot air, basket of Grandma’s breakfast and change the bull to a gill, got it.
I’m not a princess. I’m a waitress.
If you wear a dress and have an animal sidekick, you’re a princess.
These are our three best horses: Princess, Buttercup, and Psycho.
And who’s the funky looking donkey over there?
Dinosaur sounds cooler.
A dragon! A dragon! I swear I saw a dragon.