Well, Mr. Naysayer, Mr. Cynic, Mr. Food Eater, looky what I got here.

That's not a Mr. Softy machine.

Knit one, purl two.

Knit, uh, Picking Bastard, purl Bailey.

Those darn neighbor kids with their Neil Sedaka records.

Give them what for.

Kids, no, you can't.

Kids.

Uh-uh.

Oh.

Oh my goodness, something must have crashed.

Either that or a couple of those moles were experimenting in their underground lab and they blew up the joint.

Oh no, this must have come from the sky, which means it can fly.

It's an unidentified flying thing, a UFT.

Oh, my!

Maybe it contains a cute little wooly creature with a caustic wit like Alf or Ray Walston.

Better yet, maybe it's filled with sweet, chewy candy.

Wow!

Oh, my God, it is an alien!

Sweet Georgia Brown, there is life in outer space.