Boys just keep coming
they fall from the sky
three now, all mixed together
twisted and writhing.  

Hands reach and grab for it
a new Thing wanted every few minutes
Mario stuck in a power-up stance
Lighting McQueen with worn red paint.  

The smallest, still struggling, without solid words
sits squished between two much more seasoned pros
begins to exert himself in singular spirit
with a scream loud enough to be the one, the only.