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TOM: More fish flakes, sweet friend?
[lights dim, Servo sings]
Oh, Tibby, my Tibby/My heart is a mess/I don't have a protective shell/Over my chest.
So people can HURT me/With the cruel things they dooo/Yet somehow, sweet Tibby/I know you hurt, too.
Oh, Tibby, my Tibby/Reality's hard/So Tibby/Let's play in the yaaaaaaard!
Oh, Tibby!/[Crow enters]He runs like the wind/A couple of inches--aha!--/And then back again!
CROW: Uh, may I take a verse?
TOM: Oooo-doo-doooo. Well, if you feel it, Crow.
CROW: Oh, I--do. Ahem!
TOM: Well, Crow. Then by all means. Join me, won't you?
CROW (severely off key and tempo): 5, 6, 7, 8.
TOM: It's TIBBY! TIBBY!
CROW: Oh, sorry. Sorry. Sorry.
I love you my fine lit-tle fellaaa!
Even though you gave the whole fam-i-ly salmonellaaa!
[lights rise, music stops, Joel enters]
TOM: No! No! It's not their fault!
TOM: It isn't their fault! Crow, you take everything good and--! You rip my heart out!!! [sobs]
CROW: Geez, I'm--I'm sorry.
JOEL: C'mon, Crow, let'm finish his song.
CROW: Oh, okay.
JOEL: Go ahead, Tom.
CROW: It's just a stupid ol' turtle.
JOEL: Go ahead, Tom.
[Servo stops crying, lights dim, spotlight on Tibby]
TOM: Thank you, Cambot.
Tibby, my Tibby/Your blood may be cold/But I know that your heart/Burns as hot as a coal!
It burns with the love/Only turtles can feel/Tibby--/Is our love real?
My Tibby, I'll never let the dog nose around your bowl, but you know that don't you? I can see it in your beady, little eyes! If you high-center on your rock, Tibby, I'll be there to help you down!
The toilet's not your fate, friend!/You'll always run freeeeeee/Tibby--/Long as you have meeeeeeeeeeee!
CROW: D'you realize a robot, just sang a love song, to a turtle?
JOEL: That was really good, Tom.
TOM: [sob] Thank you.
JOEL: We got Commercial Sign.