| Ambrose had been in a "belligerent" mood all day; she was mad at everything and everyone. It was just her luck that she would run into her "boisterous" boss at the dating group her friend had made her come to. |
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 | Why if it isn't the "brazen" Miss Ambrose! What a treat seeing you here! Let me tell you about this "chronic" foot pain I've devel-- | |
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| No, thank you. I hate feet. It's been a pleasant talk but I really must get going. | |
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| Oh, you're a riot! Can't I "cajole" you into one more drink? | |
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| But Ambrose would have none of it. She sprinted out the door, and flew like a demon, powered on her hatred for man kind, all the way to the moon. Once there she developed the ability to breathe without oxygen, and met a very nice rabbit space guy who she later married. They are still living there to this day with 679,483,795 children. |
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| I hate feet. | |
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| *space words* | |
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