I'd like to go out in a blaze of glory. But I can't figure out how. Actually, truth be told, I'd rather stay in in a blaze of glory. Because if you go out, it doesn't matter if it's in a blaze of glory or a blaze of turnips. But I can't figure out how to do that either. Glory eludes me. Walking down the street, I see glory slip around the corner. But I run to the corner, and the side street's empty. No glory. Maybe I'll just sit here and unwrap a Snickers and wait for glory to come around to my way of thinking.