Come fly with me to France and We'll eat cheese and pate and lay in the hot summer sun

If I were the captain of a mini hovercraft I would take the people on tours of boobs.

We would fly around all day and look for the big ones. Especially the giant big fake ones, those are what the people want to see.

I would say, "Seat belts, seat belts, there's dangerous cleavage ahead!"

Then I would run at full speed and just smash into the giant fake boobs and we would bounce back and all say, "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee."

Even the girls would say it. Even the good girls. Even the nasty rotten girls who are my specific and particular friends. We would all say it.

When passing someone of more modest boob I would say, "This is as close as I want to get...there are shoals hidden on that chest. But it's lovely, right?"

And the people would say, "It's lovely, Skipper."