Their bedroom. Their fuck chamber itself. This is where they mate, Crackers… right here on this very bed. This is where they touch… their uninspired little organs together… vainly trying to recharge… their worn-out battery of filthiness… thrashing and moaning in the still of the night.
What kind of shit turns them on, Mama? What do they do in here?
All sorts of disgusting positions… l would imagine, Crackers. Connie probably takes Raymond’s little peanut of a cock… between her brittle, chapped lips… and then scrapes her ugly, decayed teeth… up and down on it… while asshole Raymond thinks he’s getting… the best head on the East Coast. Then they probably sit here… and stare at each other’s blue and red hair… while they goose each other and say dirty words. Get everything real good, honey. Get this couch real good. They probably sit here and say all sorts… of banal things to one another. Why, they may have even decided… to send us that turd on this very sofa.
l’m getting it all, Mama. Don’t you worry. They think they’re filthy. We’ll just see what the furniture thinks. Right, Mama? Am l right?
Yes, Crackers, yes. Don’t miss anything.