Crispy fluffy white popped kernels pour out of the kettle
Obscene amounts of liquid butter soon flow over the alabaster landscape slightly seasoned with salt
Releasing that signature smell in the air that screams movie time
Now for the show that is me consuming of this mountain of magnificence
Pass that pitcher, my man
Oh no, my friend. This one is mine.
Utterly impossible. You are the next round.
Really? (Laps up some of the beer.) Want some now?