...some swollen unscrambling device made in Singapore now reading the penetrating nocturnal thrust of the light body shuffling under the bushes on top of the hill above the shimmering summer twilight of Prague-23, sensing the promised bliss of what she hoped was going to come, The Real Thing (TM), what she knew by its odor was long in coming, long in suffering and long in coming, not really wanting it but---she was ready to delay it a little more, to keep the burning interface from melting.