You'll hear, "come down into my hutch." It's a hole, you will find, and it's hairy getting out. Team whichever is recruiting, and your solid airy presence is requested to reproduce the carrot imaginary. Ready to dedicate your heart to this transplant business? That's a single organ tithe that doesn't hold up to religious or pipe scrutiny. "Feels better down here" and "reason dictates" will sway a few; you don't know better and you could do worse. Tempted, head to the desert, and ask those who would make you son without asking: what can fluffles know?