What could be more reprehensible than the sweat-soaked carcass of a crusty clown upon waking from a frighteningly wonderful dream dream?! Buster was this awful thing and yet his slick appearance and the rosy glow from his dream ecstacy lent a new magnetism to the crass comedian. . . and that is what seemed to draw the flower-like Lilly Marlenya. It was as if the shining resin on the skin of the still somnolent sleeper drew a floral carnivore's interest.
Buster barely had his eyes free of the crusty mucous that had plagued his earliest waking moments when he spied still in a blur the very Lilly about whom we have been speaking. She was small as Buster was bloated. She was sweet as he sour. She was a pure flower-like creature as the clown was dirty and she was a man-eater as Buster was truly an innocent. Buster could barely fathom the situation before the sweet creature had descended upon him in such a way as to evoke oooooze and ahhhhhhsssssss! Buster's final cries resembled the religious fanatical shouts of a saved soul calling out to the Saving, OOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH! GGGGGOOOOODDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!