Grown-up: Ok kids, this way, this way. Ok, that's it. Follow me or I'll do my Jar-Jar impression again!
Smiley bombers, reporting for duty.
Kid: Screw this man. We've been posing with these instruments for the past 45 minutes and not a single chick has thrown her panties on stage.
The horseless chariot was just a fad. Soon Xena and her kind would come back begging for their trusty steeds.
Oversized monster heads - giving 5 year olds nightmares since 1993.
Guitarist: I don't think my flame motif is coming through. Do you have a match?
No matter how hard Karen danced, her mom was the only one that paid any attention.
Always match your lipstick to your feather boa. Always.
Without the aid of her hat prop, Margaret's head would be crushed like a ripe melon.
Stilt Girl: So yeah, I wish my mom had replaced my legs with these metal stilts after the jr.high dance. They're afraid now.
Boy: Don't you mean you wish she hadn't done it at all?
Girl: What? Of course not. You see how wicked tall I am right?
The Confetti Kid gets a taste of his own medicine.
Paka brings us gold! And frankincense! And mir! Wait, that's all just confetti. Nevermind.
Kid: Hurry it up woman! I've got places to be and we can't be held up by every Tom, Dick or Jane that you want to trade cookie recipes with.