The one they call mommy has been injecting me with a viscous fluid called "milk" which at first seems pleasant enough, tasty even, but which produces a terrifying effect known as "poopies". After the foul liquid has firmly ensconced itself within my innards, the havoc wreaking begins. It sneaks up on me, every time. A look of surprise crosses my visage as my innards rumble, and fight it as I may, there is no escape once it begins. And fight it I do. I strain and twist and thrash, agony written on my face. My shrill screams, so effective at preventing or demanding so many other things, have no impact on the evil mechanations of the wretched "poopies" working their way through me. Fists clenched, I struggle valiantly -- but alas, I am powerless against the onslaught. Calling out with all my might, I curse the Goddess Mommy for that which she has brought upon me as the poopies deliver their coup de grace. And then, another battle weathered, I heave a sigh of relief and promptly fall asleep -- for I know I must gather strength for the inevitable next confrontation.
