He liked to rub the camel's faeces into his morning chipolatas. His breakfast donkey mourning its deep fried scampi in the mirror girl. The deep fried scampi had been his favourite. Favourite what? Friend. He pulled his anus wide, the contents spilling out from the abyss. Oh deep cavernous abyss, why do you mock me? From inside your runny sock porridge looks appetizing. Why is it bitter like the morning sun? I saw a potato in there once, deep inside, it touched my soul like the breath of my cat upon the gooch of Jebus. Oh Jebus of Nazaraph, why do you look at me with those fanciful crustaceans? The blink. The light. Like a baby in the sun.