You are a toad; a rough and dry creature. Skin cracking smiles spread slowly like novicaine under the bulges of your eyes. Your quick tongue darts after a fly--the fly of a former stripper lying in the weeds next to your hole. She's dead you nasty little Vander Sloot. Nothing but memories and maggots oozing from her mouth. Toads love maggots and have no attachment to memories...