Cynthia was trying to think of something to play on her piano with her farting out brown notes to help influence her and yet she felt that she still wasn't getting any ideas. "This literally stinks; how am I supposed to be good at composing when I don't even have a single thought in my head?"
"Maybe you shouldn't rush through it." Dawn suggested upon entering the villa with her breaking wind enough for her skirt to lift up.
"You sure?" Cynthia responded while fanning her rumbling rump. "Because it certainly seems like the best course of action at times."
"Yes but not all the time!" Dawn pointed out and played several notes on the piano to go along with both of their farts. "See? It's all about how you composr yourself!"