I like a cheese. I like a cheese, and I like the cheeses and the biscuits. Also...lonely in literary? Would you share a cheese, write something nice about cheese, for me? Do it - a cheese-themed situation, do that for me... Consensual cheese, no cheese triangles injured in the making of a fantasy - I assured authorities.. And began - a major study in cheese - today, baked Camembert: circular, lovely, crisp cheese in her box. Cheese confined in the box, placed in the oven. Cruelty...until finally cheese - [was] removed from the ovens, here at the high academies. 'Voila..!' her lid - discarded over a shoulder, and garlic - (was once inserted.) The garlic poked - horns of a lady immersed in her own Camembert. Sliced with knife - cheese oozed, a river of molten cheese groaned over board, and dripped... '...Stop now, stop the river of cheese,' cried a bystander in his gown. I smelled - only the middle of her cheese, reached for a hunk of my bread. Cranberry sauce waited on a shared table. I scooped Camembert and consumed her, yes. Yet, eager in my palate - she was hot, burned the inside of the mouth, in the swallow[ing]. Flesh hanged from this roof-top of a mouth. Exactly, the gallows - scaffolding of cheese decorated my cavern, I screamed: 'Cheeses...crisps, not crisps, water...please.' Cheese had defeated me. I shall finish her later, revenge the dish, best serve, for now a cold cheese [to my guests, you are welcome at my table, for the cheese - brothers, and sister cheese masters for our cheeses of the world section.] Give me your cheese, America...or Spain, or Speculative moon cheese permissible.