Jennifer wrestled her friend playfully to the ground
infront of the snowcone stand and began licking at the
girls eyeballs, as if they were sugar cubes. Their
bodies convulsed and flailed with an almost seizure
like intensity. At times their pale limbs seeming to
shift back and forth from one torso to the other. A
crowd gathered almost immediately to watch these two
girls tie and untie their bodies like a pair of
pit-vipers. They were confused, or concerned, or
shocked, or aroused, or all of the above. But no-one
dared interfere with the performance. Jennifer's long
ashen hair hung down concealing the girls face like a
curtain around a hospital bed. No one had any idea
that the girls eyes were revolving under her ruby
tongue. "This is disgusting, it's p**nography"
exclaimed a pasty s*ut white woman in a fur coat,
vanilla ice-cream smeared across her double chin like
a money shot. Counting a balding professor type in his
mid-forties, his left hand stuffed cra**ly down the
front of his pants "No, no, no. This is beautiful,
this is art."