Keats sighed dramatically as (insert name) enters the room, a drizzle of arousal shooting through his blood. His quill clattered to the floor, a surprised expression splitting his face. He looked up friom his writing and shot (first name) a lusty gaze as a sheen of sweat veiled his alabaster skin. (name) looked expectantly at him, hoisting up the folds of her skirt. Keats staggered back in shock when he saw what was beneath. Her vagina! It had a face. It ate him. The end.