“I'm -

“Pheel Cazzo, there's a vagina in that wall - you understand this? Other words less medical may be running through your head, maybe even very abrupt words; perhaps even unkind, you're a writer, you're prone to that - you like to hit the mad phase, with your words, obviously.

“I've had a dream too; I've had it all forced through me and the madness contained that delightful little jolt of the insane - that's from you isn't it? But the vagina in the wall of the vagina that is the wall. Call it an orifice. But you wouldn't dare. If you'd seen it. That wall has a cunt, I'm saying, why not - be kind. But this - we'd rather be - this is no - vagina. Take a look, over there,” he gestured over there, “it's behind the frantint, a fictional plant in a fictional universe, I'm being very literal here, of course it's real, it's all real, don't panic, but it's very fictional, and anyway behind the frantint you won't see a vagina, 'fraid not, Cazzo, that thing's a cunt – you can breathe inside by means... of - ”

Continuing to speak.

“of – breathe – I breathe in it by means of mental concentration. By awareness; knowledge. I breathe inside the backdoor of that cunt wall, I beg thee forgive me, by means of the hardcast mental agility I have crystallised inside myself by means of, everything is by means of, knowing - I know how, and that is the entire process; knowing how is the entire process. I love the entire process; I breathe the entire process, by means of pure divine knowledge of reality; comprehend the delicious smoothness of this reality, my little friend, comprehend it, because it's true; it's sweet and true, and you've come here for the sweet and the true. But first let's, two grown men, together observe the lips of the colossus, in this case, two grown men, together observe the lips of a biological-chemical vagina-wall appendage orifice, grinning its sticky-slippy sticked-up lips.”

It was at this moment that he rose, in that outfit there that he had on, “Watch your step, mind it there, mind the bucket of bowels,” there was a bucket of bowels, “mind that over there, it's the bucket of bowels I'm referring to, but,” behind the frantint, he had there in the corner - weird red concentric shapes in the middle of the green palms, that constituted most of the body of that species of flora. He took him behind some other stuff too. There was a wind, an interior wind, lightly brushed across his flesh; then something: fans separating, and there – there it was – the vaginal wall-slat, that the Philosopher had just delineated the existence of.

Cazzo looked at the hairless thing; the biological thing, contemplated in horrifying biological detail; weirdly bloody and beautiful too, but – too large. Too obviously a part of Theust itself; too obviously something that had been manufactured at the expense of someone, something, maybe, some idea, it was too -

It was too much.

“You want to go in that? You do go in that?”

“I go in that. I most definitely and assuredly do. I enter – I can teach you how to breathe, if you want; if you're in it. If you want.”

“Are we going in that?” Pheel realised where he was and what was happening. For a moment, he'd - he'd just been there, here, he thought, in his head; he had just been here, inside this thing that moved forward but this was... he was not entering that thing for the –

he felt he already had.

They went back through where they had been and sat on opposite tree stump armchairs. He was here to discuss, “the nature of reality, what it is, what it means, who; why - what and when but,” there were other things. Keeet Rha-hamptah said nothing and then

“And then -”

Light behind danced on the wall, from whence... Pheel could detect no source for it, but it was there, it was definitely there.

Silk robe; weird moustache ropes, wee blue flat cap; there was something different about him even as he performed precisely the same actions, setting about disembowelling, apparently, he hadn't finished - maybe he was looking for something, the - “this is an orechnid,” he explained, disembowelling the thing. He pulled ears out it; individually he pulled each ear out of the belly of its corpse, perhaps checking; he didn't ask - this was his sense, anyway. That those inside had been deactivated. If that was the word, too.

“This is for you, you know - we won't lie to ourselves it makes a great deal of difference but – these dainty ear-ducts, I call them that, listen in behind the steps, and the lips; behind the dreams, same thing the walls of madness and minds slightly overwrought by the disconnection from -

“From what?”