I am gonna sprinkle you with a little Chrissy sugar, then I'm gonna pop you in the oven and bake you at 450 until you're brown as one of my daddy's loafers.

If something should happen and, well, I'm not able to enjoy life the way I'm able to now, like, well, being able to eat as many Fritos as I like, or pulling ticks off the cat, or watching bananas get those little brown spots on them.