The Carpenters

PEOPLE ARE always saying that the real modern age miracle is how you can fly London to Furt-frank and stand a penny on a table, skinny end up, while eating the latest in astrosnacks. I don't believe any of it because Richard Carpenter's eyes are flashing all kinds of reds and mauves as the jet we're rolling around in gets dragged across the sky in the most worrying manner imaginable.