Think not of me now, dearest, as hacksaw'd bone, and crimson dew caress my
Forget dishes unwashed and vacuums unfloored, becrutched & gimpy princess
You have larger concerns now, my sweet...
Belay your fears, good war-amps opportunist, me lady o' the stump...
For tis you, the engobbled, who requires reprise.
While I shall pull your chunchy, beshredded self from the jaws of wrath,
Once I extract your legless ass from this damdable grain pit...
Tis the trunk of my car for you, gruesome ballerina!