O Captain! My Captain! (Apparently Not Her Captain!)

Halt! Hold it right there, helmet-haired Citizen Songbird-of-the-Seventies™ Antoinette “Tony” Tennille! I will not sit idly — side-saddledly — by and allow you to sully the good name of the late, sailor-hatted melody maestro Daryl Dragon® whilst you make your way from one Kraft® service table to the next, eating every Toaster Strudel® in sight as the daytime television stylists tend to your trademarked mane. Madam, with all manner of respect due, methinks you've forgotten upon which side your Kings Hawaiian® bread is buttered. The Hostess® cupcake-noshing hostesses on the talk show circuitry may delight in your tawdry tales of muskrat lovemaking, or lack thereof, but I’m not bloody having it! Nor will the libeled ivory tickler's legion of fans! Say all you want about the good Citizen Seamen's testosteroid deficiencies, I have it on some authority that the esteemed Captain capably delivered on your pleas to "Give it to me one more time" for the entirety of your near 40 years as man and strife and if his output at this stage in the game isn’t exactly sire-worthy, so bloody be it! Methinks you ought buy — forgive me, “adopt” — a bloody dog or kitty cat and get thy snuggle on without taking your disco pajamas off. Leave the deceased Daryl's Dragon out of it, curiously coiffured madam!