You really ought to get Flash.
| A FLASH POP-UP WINDOW APPEARS. "Oh no," you think. "Not another ad for that damn camera." But no, it is something far more grand. There he is, the Lizard King in vector-graphics-based glory. You can almost smell the tragic poetry that wafted off his beautiful flesh. He pouts, he broods, he wheels and gambols like a rock 'n' roll jaguar, with rippling muscles and dagger-like fangs. Fangs? Wait, what's happening? Morrison coils. The organ kicks into "96 Tears" by ? and the Mysterians. The Doors didn't even cover that song. It's kind of cool, but dopey. Morrison lunges and his fangs sink into your soul. He has you now; you're his high-class Parisian whore now. You are the black coffee with which he washes down enlightenment. You are Jim Morrison. You really ought to get Flash. |