Svengali ticketure and fruit based telephonic communicative devices perusal is all very well, but trying to comprehend visual imagery can be somewhat more challenging!
Psychic transference of serial slaughterer into psycho daughter... or reincarnation into a septitude of souls not dissimilar to Harry Potters hunt for Voldemort's whorecrotch. No wait, it's a schizophrenic son the demon dad has possessed after hiding in his daughter suit.
Oh, after all that, it's just a mad lad pissed off with his stepdad.
So, show me pictures of pretties as the monkey-raper turns his attentions to the 69ing of Puffquims. Ooh, pretty! Ooh, pretty! Ooh, pretty!.
And just as I turn to leave, the Pretty imparts images of bitchwitches in crotchless PVC trollkinis, exposing the harpies' hairpie herpes with the thigh high patent leather boots and the PVC peek-a-boo titpants and the studded dogging collar and the...
...pass me that pervy Polar Bear sex doll out of the fridge for a moment, will you...
"Hey, Katie! Smelling of fish, huh. Try this new vagitarian cheese flan(ge) as I polish yer Beetle bonnet..."
