As sad, strangled Swomee-Swans mournfully depart overhead and harried Humming-Fish hustle to escape the bacteria-ridden waters below, a grumpy Lorax remonstrates with the unrepentant Onceler, who offers him a trash can where he can stick his do-gooder complaints. “For decades now, my message has been consistent and clear: unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not. You’ve taken what should be one of the world’s most paradisiacal places and turned it into parking lot. And what’s your idea of a fix? Electric scooters? Do you even hear yourself? Dear old Ted Geisel told me I should stick around for as long as I could stand it after he died, just to serve as a reminder of his true legacy after the movies crapped all over it. But when I hear that the air here is worse than it is in Houston and New Freaking York, I say it’s time for a lifting. Later, losers.”
As sad, strangled Swomee-Swans mournfully depart overhead and harried Humming-Fish hustle to escape the bacteria-ridden waters below, a grumpy Lorax remonstrates with the unrepentant Onceler, who offers him a trash can where he can stick his do-gooder complaints. “For decades now, my message has been consistent and clear: unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not. You’ve taken what should be one of the world’s most paradisiacal places and turned it into parking lot. And what’s your idea of a fix? Electric scooters? Do you even hear yourself? Dear old Ted Geisel told me I should stick around for as long as I could stand it after he died, just to serve as a reminder of his true legacy after the movies crapped all over it. But when I hear that the air here is worse than it is in Houston and New Freaking York, I say it’s time for a lifting. Later, losers.”
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