Let's throw a party while we're at it.
Lets go play on our bikes.
He'd be scratching at the lid of his coffin yelling, "Let me out! I'm alive! Let me out!!"
Why does it have to be a group activity?
Just two, how did they get in there anyway?
Vending machines.
One to put in the new one, and two to sing about how good the old one was.
So time would fly.
Organized crime.
In the punchlines.
They are always party fowls.
The extrovert looks at your feet when talking.
The extrovert looks at the other person's shoes.