This piece is best appreciated when heard from the soothing voice of our lovely lady Robo Rita, Willie Ludwig's favorite reader.

Don't read this if you have no scents love tumor.

I heard the gutter mint Tonka senseless to cloud cow many us forks dare far in the can tree.

Gutter mint guy at the toast mop us toad me.

He's a surreal fart smell a true.

He new utter fangs hand dots a bag worts.

Senseless trappers will cloud us all.

Tattle be reel inner-string noting cow mangy dove dare ark in dust can tree.

Mazes me what goul learing owl due.

Thanks far glistening.

Drool be hurting prom meat spoon.

All be toes.

Seed pool hate ear.