"I proceed from the premise... that my refrigerator has become a self-aware ecosystem! The expiration date is a mere social construct... but this pulsating neon moss is a biological imperative! Wait... Loon... give me the... the high-fructose corn syrup frequency! And... A-ONE, A-TWO, A-YODEL-AY-HEE-HOO!" Rolling down the esophagus, spores in the air! Pink fuzzy donut with some lush, verdant hair! Sugar-coated heartbeat, I’m bouncing off the stars! Then I locked gazes with a blueberry from Mars! The label said "Fresh," but the mold shouted "NO!" Now I’m joyriding through a kaleidoscope show! I sat like a garden gnome frozen in the slush! A blueberry eyeball in a psychedelic rush! Pink, pink, pink mouldy donut screaming in my soul! Do you need a doctor or just another donut hole? [High-Pitched Yodel: YODEL-AY-HEE-HOO!] Blue, blue, blue blueberry eyeball! Locked in the gaze, I’m leaning ‘gainst the drywall! We’re one now, forever—just the fungus and me! Pink fuzzy nightmare, gastro-clarity! The kitchen was heavy, the fridge was a blur! Until the pastry started growing thick, luxurious fur! Sobriety's a vacuum, it’s a total bore! Until the sourdough started dancing on the floor! I proceed from the premise... that my liver is now plaid! Pink, pink, pink mouldy donut—the best trip I’ve had! We’re steering out of the void and into the light! I see a giant polka-dotted weasel... and he’s dressed in white! The dross is melting... like a cheap birthday cake! The molecules are mixing for goodness sake! You saw straight through me... like a screen door in a storm! Straight through my donut hole, making me transform! [Accordion Squeeze-box Wheeze] We’re steering out of the pantry... Into the cyclops light! [Polished Studio Burp Sound] One eye for the logic, spores for the fun! Two day-old pastries... combined into one! Pink, pink, pink mouldy donut screaming in my gut! Blue, blue, blue blueberry eyeball! We’re one now, forever we’ll be! Pink fuzzy cyclops, fungal clarity! It’s organic! It’s clean! It’s a probiotic-machine! No more prescriptions... Just a bucket of Tums! Shared identity... with the kitchen crumbs! "I proceed from the premise... that my elbows are now sentient and incredibly fluffy. Wait. Blueberry... can you see the... the calorie count from up there? Revision 49... is looking very... furry. And I think it just asked me to join its polka band."
