Ok so like the mudwalls were deep, yeah? They had like oil rubbed on ‘m. The loser climed ‘m for like 5 minutes and then self-esteem kicks in. He slid back to the floor and then he masturbated.
“Its your job to climb the walls,” the wife said. “Its like you want someone to do it for ya,” she said. He milled around aimlessly, pissed off.
There was a mathmatician in the cave too. He had come there to find himself he said. The mathmatician worked tirelessly through the night. He discovered fundamental truthes. The loser liked the mathmatician, but the mathamatician merely tolerated him. He always had a good sense of humor about the thing. He only polited edged out of conversation with him. The two got along.
Up above in that greasy blackness that is sky goblins roved reflective metal beams into the heart of pleasure. On their way to pleasure they heard voices, a gaggle of selves urging them to break the beams, but it was to late, the goblins had simply accepted they were there. The beams had sedemented, cut off the sky into carefully segmented parts of swamp. The creatures loved to wallow in them. As she passed by, a few of them called to her to lie in the thick hot mud, she kept on into the heart of pleasure and its adrenalin delights.