And the more I read it, the more I'm convinced that this is an elaborate ruse by Jack Black.
"Harry slammed his book shut. It wasn't really a book, because the pages were made of lasers and the words were made of headless women making godless love to dragons made out of motorcycles, but it was still reading."
Do you see what I mean??
"As his ocular ducts began to well with ancestral pride, so too did the countless meaty members sprouting from the rape ape's every hairy inch. From his eye sockets, ear holes, even his calloused toes, a penile font of cry-juice birthed a deluge."
CRY-JUICE. Or as less awesome people would call it, "tears." You think the rape ape (rape ape, rape ape err, please tell me you get the Hanna Barberra reference) squirts out something as weak as tears? He shits eye juice from his cock-eyes, (lol) weaklings! Then hops a space copter to Planet Tits and through the force of a diminished E chord, blasts that mofo into oblivion and also into full cans of Copenhagen and Jack Daniels, which then rains down on naked ladies teeming with want and leather.
Dude, this stuff is crack. Huh. Maybe I wrote that stuff while tweaking on mushrooms and listening to Iron Maiden and staring at the Yellow Submarine album cover.
This is how I pass the time while my sister takes her bath and styles her hair. Um, it's a lengthy process for her. :) [And for those curious, things are going very well. \o/]