The separation. This was all that needed to be said. No one knew her. Nor did pumpkin hagley. Silence my darling. You've got your period. Now Now Quentin, that's bad manners. Choking on her words like she choked the the d.....  Cottage cheese was the reflection, ruling its own subliminification. Secrets were spilled like the sperm around broffle. No-longer did the seperation need to be explained, as you see, the eyes of the world were haunted with Maggins soul. Death aroused thy soul in the separation. Neither were harmed, but both were killed. 

"Quentin darling!"

"Yes Mom?"

"Your going to have a gastric bypass."

Co-written with thyself.