Running Sore, still in a good mood passes Lily Festre, waves with one hand and taps his bald head with the other and says, "How, Chemo Sabe!"


"Too bad she's happily taken.", the Indian thinks to himself, "I could settle down with her and raise a tribe of Festre-ing Sores any day! Mmmmm-mmmm! Lookin' GOOD!"


HEY, Don't worry! You've still got it, Lily!