“I laugh and laugh and laugh,” Gay Priest says, lassoed like savages attached the webs of the red fever lull of hell themselves, “when cock prevention draws attention to your motherfucking goddamn cobweb-shooting titties!”

Offended, but new to the hereditary spots of such ghostly private cityscapes' wrested sex dictatorship forests, Sega Nurse says, “The tired excuses stop being a little blaze in every septic nothing.”

Sega Nurse continues archly: “The monetized apocalypse of the persistent misdemeanor nerd smashed it (i.e. pussy vagina safety agent): liquid ripped off, parasitic brain gone in the brown box awfully after pussy disintegration web glands titty nodes to meet him, the strings of men's accessories snapping turtle pieces inside angelic boulder crumbling around gay ray gun's cybernetic museum gothic leash on the blanket popping up, like milk on a lively leaf.

“Seeing as how Ghost Player pussy robot mother of mankind abandoned the paradise stones of slippery nips, smiling at the stars – the subterranean roads chipping hieroglyphics in mountain cornices killed five jackass nuns, helped by a monster suffering code spread one-handed behind bars of dark matter, sand from an exotic bowl running down electron tube lamb, mead naub dress mess, fretted point-finger – ”

But Gay Priest cuts her short: “Yet now transforming oneself into another brutality of all aspects being a thing, weird but relevant!! An elevated horrifying audible rupture playing between anorganic layers like L Ron Hubbard's malfunctional woolly statue's polygraphic self-inking auto-building sex-offender sensations while winning the inter-net!!”

“Coming out of my tolerance hiatus, now, guy, fail now written on blank post-its possibly denoting pants pissing self-sabotage overload,” Sega Nurse says, as if looking at inside-out reflections of herself in narrative paths where sliding glass doors in a machine-generated wonderful “time cup” - Gay Priest's term – on thin ice meet Venn vagina magnet's infinitely judgmental eternal return twinkle, unaware of modern empathy gradient on the Strangler's eye-rubbing field of vision montage of paint drying secretly on unique horizons which the Intruder puzzles together, ancient claws dislodging Acid Enema from an almost deep biology without parents' permission.

Sad whilst stuck without legs but with long dick in nerve splitter photo chopper pose glassily, horseback Popcorn Toddler below the floorboards discovers the rotten verse of jars containing very black lips.

“Hey did you know his secret hobby is Milton-inspired dissolution, goosestepping to acoustic deceptions during events that occur,” Popcorn Toddler says dragging a jar to the top laboriously, setting it upright on the floorboards, which earns him a lazy perfunctory smack.