Bob’s final word on the matter was, “apples.”
It’s final word on the matter was, “devastation.”
Their final word on the matter was, “separation.”
The final word on the matter was, “congratulations.”
He couldn’t reach the horizon, though he tried.
“There’s just no cure!”
“No. Reality TV.”
The doorbell rang. No one was ever home.
The bearded lady and the hairless man eloped.
His heartfelt apology fell on (newly) deaf ears.
She could’ve joined the circus, and she did.
She could’ve ended his pain, but she didn’t.
She could have saved him, but she didn’t.
She could have believed him, but she didn’t.
The spacesuit wouldn’t fit his “not dying” plan.
He, she, and it strolled through grammar actively.
He never knew how far he could go.
The magician could disappear significant amounts of alcohol.
The Escape Room Attendant trapped many an admirer.
After the disaster she couldn’t see him. Literally.
Their date went worse than alien mind probes.