Blank: You know bumping heads with the Gridlockx is scary!
I think more along the lines of intergration like Trax does.
But Flipsidz won't accept me on all sides of the coin.
Flip his medallion and he is made of mandrake to my own gris gris.
Alchemy to a man who studies the Arcane.
Arcane and Voodoo clash like high heels on a Sasquatch.
We were both in street gangs growing up, slinging dope and studying the street.
He thinks I still live in the ghost ghetto of the past.
You can take the ghetto out of the man, but he still turns everything into a tin can?
Clyde: Tin can love machine Mr. Bubble!
They should make a cartoon character for their andoidal figurehead.
Blank: Nope too legit for what Flipsidz has knit!
You see magick and musick are in tune with a robot rythme.
What if he attacks us with his Automatons?
Clyde: Like with an evil Locamotion?
He probably hates that you turned her into a Duet?
Probably also got sumthing up his sleeve as always?
Calling her "Emotional Looker"?
Blank: Or choochoobee?
He has little talons on how to repossess her.
Trax better look out!
He hates how easily Trax came to possess her in that contest.
I think he wishes his wife were an Android Automaton on auto-mneumatic?
Clyde: Think about programming her with the "Kama Sutra Matrices"?
Blank: Like I said, "Choochoobees that pollinate like a prosthetical honey comb of Androidal Ambrosia".
Clyde: Nectar of the pods...?
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