A skeleton breaks fast in a cemetery, struggling to crack eggs and consume the contents of plates and bowls. You are that skeleton.
And I said what about Breakfast at Cemetery?
She said I think I remember our lives,
And as I recall I think, we both kinda had flesh,
And I said well that’s, the one thing we’ve lost.
Breakfast At Cemetry is like QWOP except with breakfast instead of running and a skellington instead of an athlete.