Gross, he's picking his nose!

Gross, he's picking his nose!

Think again, Jimmy. You see, the firing pin in your gun was made of -- yup, zinc.

Dad: Think again, Jimmy. You see, the firing pin in your gun was made of -- yup, zinc.

Jimmy: Come back zinc! Come back...

Sorry Jimmy. Without zinc for the rotary mechanism, there are no telephones.

Jimmy: But I promised Betty I'd pick her up by six. I'd better give her a call.

Dad: Sorry Jimmy. Without zinc for the rotary mechanism, there are no telephones.

Jimmy: Dear God, what have I done?

You said you wanted to live in a world without zinc, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Hey, what gives?

Dad: You said you wanted to live in a world without zinc, Jimmy. Well, now your car has no battery.