When the Plain-headed Stickmen popped out, they were nailed. They actually were, McFuck hadn't failed.
Then they yelled at the ones who had nails from the start,
We're exactly like you; you can't tell us apart. We're all just the same now, you snooty old smarties. Now we can come to your frankfurter parties!
Good Grief!
... groaned the one who had nails from the first. "We're still the best Stickmen, and they are the worst. But how in the world will we know," they all frowned,
