“Hey, I’m tired of talkin’. When you gonna do me, huh?”
“Oh, you’re gonna savour this.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh. I wanna real long one.”
“You do?”
“I wanna smell myself, umm-hmm. Can I taste my skin when it gets crispy? Sweat’s what makes it tasty, don’tcha know?”
“Now who’s the chatterbox? Now who’s moving his lips?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re still gonna do me, now, aren’t ya? You’re still gonna‽”
“Maybe.”
“Chronic insult to the frontal lobe. This one will write me a thank-you note.”
“It’s like a thousand points of light.”
“A hundred-and-thirty volts brain via scalp. Generalized electrical seizure.”
“I like the dirty talk! All that volt and electrode stuff! You wanna buzz me more? When I get a little I always wanna lot.”
“You’re a piggy little thing. You want more?”
“I told you I got the itch. I’m burnin’ up! I’m a hunka electric corpuscles!”
“First we work. You scratch my itch.”
“That’s no fair! I’m a juice dog! I’m a twitchin’ skee-ball! And you won’t let me shiver!”