Six girls hang from the arched entrance doors like bats of a crumbling underpass. Purple blood rushes from their clawed feet downwards to their heads leaving any appendage below the waist (I am speaking of their cunts and dicks) ugly and transparent. Red and throbbing, their heads resemble over ripened raspberries, as I imagine do their cocks before being drained by their vampire selves during extra-curricular orgies. And after taking turns biting at my lips, the winged choir hisses in unison against the rust:
"You are nothing but lame and deaf and stinky here smelling of deli cuts and freezer burn. Where any part of you is a woman lies a dog."