I’ll forgive this terrible arc if it ends with an enraged Crankshaft leaping out of the crowd and tackling the Funky Winkerbean invader off the stage while shouting “Get out of my strip!” on Friday.
I prefer the dialogue to not be adjusted. No modern dates. No adjusting gas prices for inflation. Let them be true reruns. The hairstyles and fashion are clearly mid-90s, so stop pretending otherwise.
Either Gracie is standing on a stack of empanadas or she learned to levitate.