O, the indignity!
Damn you, Debra and Gene. Just, seriously, damn you.
As I lie here, immobile and shamed, the only thought that sustains me is tonight's impending cornucopia of sundry sweets and savouries; treats both salted and sour, rich and delicious.
The worst part? Catching a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror, I find myself thinking unholy thoughts of auto-cannibalism. A delicious child-sized hamburger? O, the shame as I salivate at the very sight of myself.
Gene and Debra, I vow, will pay for this disgrace. For now, however, I require a nap.
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