Look up, toy. I’m not even inside you, and you’re already leaking for the privilege. Admit it: you were made to be used by a Queen who smiles while she ruins you.
Sirs, If you have somewhat over-indulged this yuletide past, you may wish to attend a fine lecture and practical exhibition of callisthenics in the Dashwood hall. Miss Beatrix Pemberton will soon restore your former vitality with her most nimble methods.