Step right up and see the wonders of your careless life, found partly used, but still in mint condition. When your wallet's as fat as your chances, put your name down on the list. Buy your sadness, and place it on the shelf next to your failings and trophies of shame. Suck it up and pull your own strings.
Stand in single-file, uniforms and ornaments, clinging to the walls of the spotless room where guns are secured just inches from our heads, and we know what happens when something goes wrong. Clip the green wire. No the red one, no the blue. No, you're done for.
And you become the same protruding stain. The same crowd-pleasing chalked inscriptions. The same set of limited-time-only human playset combos, broken down and compressed into bite-size stacking toy blocks where the engines of our sisters still remain. Yeah, she purrs like a drowning kitten.
Step right up and witness the glory of the cure for the common concern. May I have a volunteer?