Dewey recites classic pick-up lines in front of his bathroom mirror at the stroke of midnight.
He, self-smitten, ends his
narcissismonanism with a French kiss, slipping himself the tongue – a classy move for a classy guy from that same classy guy.”
“If you think your life is just going to be to sit around and just create, well, that’s just not going to be the case, son.”
There once was a show about high school kids singing and dancing on lunch tables, too.
But it was ’80s-stark and bohogritluck rather than precious and candy-colored and frigid.