The Zook is playing, everybody is dancing. I shy away, lest I reveal my true colours: remembering the child dancing outside the rum shop, I digress.
Cousin (pronounced in a French accent)…I hear my relative shout.
This slight man, I see him lost in the thunderous thighs of dis big woman, his head buried in her voluptuous breast, huge grin beaming from her face.
She whines her waist like there is no…