“Cut out the heart while farting slathering gagging relaxing, you fools, devil bitch you're supposed to be dead...” Elon Musk says. “Only with sprinklets of holy water on perineums the deer's wound wound an entire cheese, despicably blended dragon spear harder than I thought triggered by dust on a soup.”

“Your trouble, Elon, compares existential crises as pick-up lines to face-to-face algorithms, the automated stack of a Frasier sleepover literally learned to swim on a skateboard, the silence outside the hippocampus has no eyes, stuffed claws shredded sickly blood vessels of the madman dumping his face in anticipation of sex...” Red Hands says.

“Great fun, can't understand synthetic lifeforms though....” Elon Musk says.

Red Hands shakes his head.

Popcorn Toddler, the helpless human's scattered rotted oral patches growing on its skull groped by Gay Priest to a slick celestial hyphen in a pizza crew's foul squeeze, shoots back: “Your a fcking gay fa git fcking ass ho le fcker.”

Proke and Werk and Serge and Dr Cosby had invited the four idiots, along with a certain Neutral Peggy and her boyfriends White Worm and Gay Priest and his catamite Popcorn Toddler, to help them develop a new game featuring Thumbnailmailman man in a certain program location.

I LOVE THE TASTE OF S.HIT HARV Meryl-Streeep hologram says over her shoulder, pointing an invisible omnipresent accusing finger at Gay Priest.

Meryl-Streeep hologram is sitting at the computer chatting to Jesus.

“Faster, father,” Jesus types. “I'm becoming educated in slim!'

NOT SLIM SLIME YOU STUPID F.UCK YOU CANT SPELL Meryl-Streeep hologram types.

“Wash out your mouth with soap!”

I AM UNIVERSITY EDUCATED YOU F.UCK

“Ow!”

As if regenerative rodeo fungus outlook conjunction of nihilism and capacity for sporadic human conduit amongst humans multiplies morning menu fish, in agony evening polishing adjuncts to monstrous morning decomposition comes back.

“At larval level I reject sorceries,” Jesus says, no longer in the computer but physically kneeling beside Meryl-Streeep hologram, who is shocked. “O fecund giantess, your sonic transmission damaged roads. Plop rumblin' nurses ladies chaos in burst tremors.... bees unhinge walls of paranormal M*A*S*H in voyeuristic pussy camera activity like licked and rimmed jumping on hard penis gets orgasm from ax cheating with ex and father in-law..... Saturn Devouring Paper Towel mirror fap dick ghost in craw flying at rake..... the mushrooms scoundrel of the evening eliminates dipping disgusting to disappear obscure chill of empathy bathroom sandwich and choke on vomit!”