Chapter Text
Crusher: How do I ask someone out?
Mayor Humdinger: Roses are red, violets are blue, guess what, my bed has room for two.
Crusher: No!
Preston Praxton: Twinkle twinkle little star, we can do it in a car.
Crusher: Stop!
Pickle: Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily I can make you scream.
Crusher: I feel like the last one is verging dangerously into serial killer territory.
