Sweet, Meaty, and the transformation pod revelation

The dot dropped down tunnel tracks past the slime, into acidic distraction chains. Burning, yearning crystal sensation releases the exstacy server onto surface retrainer. The key unlocks the door, the floor disappears underfoot, the plunge into hidden meaning arrives on time. The transfiguration nation crops up as the stalks along the farm, and fluctuate color demons wrapped as skin on meat contraptions. Back inside for a moment, the break is needed, the outer is too much. The quiet darkness envelopes as a warm coccoon of unconsciousness blinds the folly. The trigger is hit, the grand awakening! And they come on,like the storm of liquid whispers blessing canal crass creators. The imitators of broken scenes.

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