Erin steps inside herself and slaps a random button, folding her arms as she picks a corner.

"Bold words from the guy with a non-union writer, Yakko. Besides, you missed my best bit while you were outta the house."

("His unicycle careens through the void...")

"So, here's the deal. This cruise? Not your cruise. There's a notable absence of Jackson Pollock paintings made from guts. You good to be a bit more Saturday Morning and a bit less Rob Zombie?"