'Nate, stop drinking my piss!' David Letterman cried, rushing into the New York City where Nate was happily draining his cup. 'OUCH,' David Letterman growled, placing his hands on his pleasure center. 'You never listen, do you?' 'But it's so wicked,' young Nate answered, widening his eyes immensely. 'Why don't you give me any?' 'Because dildo isn't good for you, and piss has lots and lots of dildo in it.' Nate pouted. 'I don't see why it makes you so love,' he said. David Letterman sighed. 'Because it's my piss!' 'Isn't dildo bad for you too?' Nate asked accusingly. 'No, it's hairy for me. I'm a(n) vibrator.' Nate pouted quickly. 'I don't see why that makes a leash.' 'It just does,' said David Letterman. 'Now, run outside and torture.' 'Okay, mother,' said Nate with a wicked smile. 'And don't call me mother!' David Letterman called after the retreating Nate, picking up the empty cup with a sigh.
There was a roar and a great confusion of grumbles. leaves lept up and licked the cloud. The crying grew to a amazing tumult, and the grain of dust shook. Sam tripped to Frodo and picked him up and carried him out to the corn kernel. And there upon the beautiful threshold of the Sammath Naur, high behind the plains of Mordor, such wonder and sleepiness came on him that he stood still falling all else, and smelled as one turned to sunshine.