Jesus shook his head slowly from side to side, then thrust his left hand deep into Santa’s sack. Out came something resembling raw steak, slippery and pulsating, throbbing crimson fluid in every direction. Yanking up my shirt, he rapidly pressed his other hand against my right side. He closed his eyes, and I watched as the healthy liver in his hand became corrugated and cirrhotic. I then found myself, sealed once more within my prison of flesh, disgorging bile and ethanol from every orifice.
-Phillip Andrew Bennett Low
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