Sophia, pinecones are not part of a perfect princess slumber party. Oh, I thought I explained this before, but I guess I'll have to do it again. Our perfect slumber party is just about to begin. And at a perfect slumber party, everybody's gotta fit in. There's a certain way we do things. We don't snort and we don't squeal. And running around with pinecones really isn't part of the deal. We do our hair, we have some tea. And when we sing, it's soft and always on key. And by chance, if we should dance, we'd walk elegantly. That's a perfect slumber party. And that's the way it's always been. The gist of it, to be a hit, you gotta fit. Everybody's gotta fit in. Everybody's gotta fit in. You gotta fit in. At a perfect slumber party, why should we all act the same? Cause at a perfect slumber party, isn't fun the name of the game? Why can't they bounce on every bed? Or wear a dozen pinecones all over their head? Give their dance a single chance. It may be as fun as they said. It's our perfect slumber party. And our pants is wearing thin. They need to quit, you must admit. They're not gonna fit. And everybody's gotta fit in. I'm gonna help them fit in. They're never gonna fit in. They can fit in. At a perfect slumber party, they'll never fit in. They'll never fit in. I'm gonna help them fit in. Good luck!