The ringer tolled the workers back from the fields for vespers.

“Some bitch,” Political mumbled. “You should know. She's always on the news. Her and Ribit the Horrible. Flapping their lips about something. Never thought I'd say this, but your femcunts are worse'n ours.”

Swimmings of the head and intestinal pains seemed the prelude of dissolution.

They still make each other smile and they each brag about how smart and talented and wise and tender the other one is and how lucky each is to have met the other and they actually look happy and if it's a front then I say both of them deserve Academy Awards for their splendid performances.