A self-involved guy walks into the lounge so I ask him "what'll I do for ya" and he screams "IT'S ALWAYS ABOUT YOU!"

Get that genitalia off the screen set the focus on that infertility experience. The what-if-she's-a-no-show segment makes you stay through the credits just like the actual experience remains with you while you're alive. Getting christened with the mouth makes you fight through the point question and the chrome mudflaps on a '44 JeepCJ right to AVOID FRIGHT.

When the big guy is a no-show and the darro-tactile medivac'd the 3am out of dreamland anyhow, that's a reprise of the curtain call variety.

The takeaway here is there's no PA if there's no anxiety. I'm too close to Paradise to Blue Ball.