The way all cheesy romantic comedies since the nineties have, which is too wrap up all the pain, and bring this bad boy to an ending where the sun shines, the girls are cool, and the boys too cool for school, where the ron howards and their fonzy bears dance at beach parties, and the volleyball tumbles out into the sky where a cartoon shark reaches out its fin to bounce up into the universe, bouncing off of stars that wink at aliens in hummer spaceships and the neon lights sunbathe the galaxy in its rays of neon pink, orange, and yellow. For this is, after all, the age of machines, where robots control the world, people are rotten, degenerative, and overpopulating, and women wear bikinis. It’s abominable. It really is.
