The scientific debate on whether or not Pluto should be called a planet turns ugly.
Pass the cough syrup, we're having a party!
No they have dicks, sorry man.
This is still better than calling Geek Squad.
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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