The hank in the pank is a glutodinous entity that
partakes in glust and blumb without too much of
a shtanking diss for a riffopataking tallyhoo. That
is of course only when the garb is clean and not
much remains to be seen in light in plain light.
What of light then, the hank would minaprobingly
ask? What then of the pilferably dissociated lumina
that garbs and garbs? What excuse of a dither of
a shocking diss of a dither would the pank disprobingly
bring forth? To action to speech to call. Diss then too.