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the juices off
|
Fremens grossly inflated
|
image of himself
|
painted on the
|
backside of the
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wall next to
|
a wax model
|
with beautiful gigantic
|
and totally natural
|
beach blonde beauty
|
???
of hu-norm-ous bazongas |
with a hot
|
poker up her
|
rectum, sigmoid colon's...
|
hands didn't quite
|
retrieve a dictionary.
|
.. or even a
|
pictionary, which wouldn't
|
satisfy the growing
|
consciousness of our
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sad story we
|
continue to abuse
|
Fremen with moths
|
started to reach
|
under the countertop
|
looking for his
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next three words .
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Meanwhile, on the
|
plant Earth, Vorgons...
|
quietly looked for
|
the remains of
|
the Eiffel Tower.
|
Which had previously...
|
been stuck in
|
a dirty asshole
|
called Paris. Then
|
our next adventure
|
started with three
|
incurable venereal diseases
|
that had been
|
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