To name you a polyeurethene sealant and adhesive does so little justice to your magical powers. Not only do you form a strong and flexible bond resistant to salt water, O sticky goo, you perform miracles.
Yea, I say unto you, miracles! How else does a microscopic dab of 5200 stretch to a nautical mile of white trace? And the way your purity of color besmirches precisely those items least likely to require a marvelous marine sealant? It's unholy how you find dark blue clothing and couch-loving pets.
And verily I say undo you: a pinhead's worth of 5200 will track on the bottom of a sneaker for -- and I promise I can count them still -- eighteen individual steps. Growing fainter, sure, but still visible across concrete and decking and welcome mat and hardwood planks, round as tiny cannon scars and quite indelible.
It is written that 5200 cures fully in two days into a watertight, flexible, and lasting seal, but the thaumaturgy of you, O my 5200, defies this sacred Instruction for Use.
O 5200! Spread thick -- and devil take the hindmost, O most holy 5200! I implore you, look over our Frankenscot. Bless every single bit of hardware and each thread of every bolt with gobs of your non-Newtonian moisture barrier. Keep us from corrosion, leakage, failure, aboard this, our Everglades Challenge boat project without end.
Shall we finish with a hymn?