I move in slow motion. It's in slow me for motion. Brussel sprouts go great on a tuna sandwich. Britton sprouts. Britton used to always feed me tuna before I became infected with malaria.
Luckily I'm a survivor. No Africa death for this Chove!
Britton sings like a canary. It's a beautiful chirping sound. Beautiful Britton bird. Beautiful Britton bird berry butt. What?
When Britton was young, I cared for him. He was the singer in a musical. He had to sell hatches. It wasn't a huge part, but he did pretty good. I miss the good days when Britton was a button. Button-nosed Britton! That's what his aunt used to call him before he got nose surgery. He doesn't have a button nose anymore. The cancer ate away the button aspect.
I aspect you to clean the floor.
There's men raining from the sky, and one is upon my back. I will deliver this man to his destination, his fate is in my hooves.
Sometimes I want to throw up everything I've ever eaten to clean out my intestines. I wish I could cut open my stomach and stretch out all my organs. Everything feels too jam packed in there. I wish I could squeeze the meat out of my liver.
Britton had a roommate one year that looked like a caveman. His name was Toyko and I did not like him. Toyko loved the pigs too much and ate too much bacon. Oily Toyko was his nickname around the plantation.
I'm pouring the blood out of my head. There's a syringe stuck in through my temple that's sucking out the excess brain fluid.
Toyko in the sky.
We sell fish, not rye.
There's a twinkle in my eye,
as I lay down to fry
the chicken.
