But then his pants fall down. Get rid of that thing. Horseman gives her a kick in the mouth and her lips pry open and she stops her singing. They've smashed the gates. Photochick, she squints.
Horseman looks down.
His face is dirty. The sun's hot. Meanwhile, back at the kazoo factory, Prez is walking back and forth dictating a letter. Yes, I want the holes much bigger in these kazoos. I also want them cut sharper and to kind of pinch the tongue a little.