He could feel the glaze building up on the surface of his eyes, shinny and thick like new donuts passing beneath the maternal spigot of icing. Picture a sludgy pre-Cambrian soup-ocean, except without the awful smell.
The flourescent lights squirmed on the back of his neck. Blue and green, such sexy colors. Vibrating and humming like a hotel bed. Sexxxy. Yeah. As the kids say, it's all good.
Arvo wants to jack, thought Arvo. The wrist of his mouse hand began to burn in anticipation.