Shiny Girl smiles, and the world turns. Shiny Girl laughs, and the stars explode. Shiny Girl walks into the ring, and a thousand hearts skip a beat.
The Shiny Girl shines tonight.
The Infester enters a stark spotlight, to begin the entertainment. He half-menaces a grimace, before the implication of approaching disaster; earthquake-style venom bites. He talks up a good fright, alright.
The Shiny Girl arches her back, and the Wheel turns a mean screw. One rool of an Indigo drum, and The Shiny Girl rides the Wheel of Hate, like a Chinese firework rides the night sky on Transformation Saturday. For The Shiny Girl shines tonight.
Fifteen minutes making love on the Wheel of Hate, and even these anthrax whispers of envy are silenced. Because everything is true.
She jumps, lands, her hair breathes, and the audience applaud, as a thousand guns are removed from their heads.
For the price of admission deserves at least one Wonder, my friend.
And yes, we love you still.