I'm foreign in these parts. I'm horny though. I avoided em at all turns. But join em spring or fall or follow certain Apollo missions to appalling lottery spun fictions. To the moon follow me to the mall or Hell just watch your tall fartin furbie-eyed darky as he guts a gorilla and sets up a stand to sell bananas. It's curtains.

What a mess. Walk with me.

Do I talk to police? Guess. What do you think. A test. A fall festival. I talk to no one but the mother fuckin trees you fuckin peon. Arrest him. On your mother fuckin knees.

See I'm not your mother fucking pleaser I please no people. Cocks. Maybe when I'm Freon tweeking in Korea on the weekend. Wee! Kim Jong Un or whatever his name is in long johns it's clever in Spain they eat dog meat but with grapes.

Gasp. Audible.

Sorry, ma'am. I mean, are you in for a date? Get away from me freak? Great.

Do you like Pina Coladas?

Get away from me, you rapist. I'm not a rapist. Wow. I'm a realist in a mask. I lurk at night and I terrorize purse holding persons cause I dare not fight equals.

Well we will set it for West of the setting sun on the first of the next scary month lets remember it. The date. Row your boat bitch. Ya. Get away from me. Fuckin frightened little vagina...