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Slender brown angels wobble all over the surface of the sea. I cry out to them but they take no notice. Their long dark hair grows so fast that soon it trails in the water. Fish nibble where the ends of the hair start to grow strange fruit.

Then the angels float over the Grand Canyon. A silver cross hangs between the enormous breasts of one of the angels. Milk spurts from her breasts and pours down into the canyon. Soon a river of milk is flowing. I bob along the river on a rubber raft. Max and Milford are in the raft with me. They're wearing wetsuits and stuffing their faces with chocolate.

I'm wearing some sort of white party dress like the one I wore for my first communion. I'm also stuffing chocolate into my mouth as fast as I can go.

The milk river pours down a plug hole. We go down the plug hole too. Down and down. We come to a dry place. It's dark. Rats scurry. Slithery things are coming this way--to lick the rings of chocolate from around our mouths. 

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