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How can it be that in life's fair offerings, thou dost stoop to such a low and fetid joy? The fruits of vine and field all pale before thy strange delight in this foul morsel. Truly, thy taste surpasseth reason, for who, in their right mind, would feast upon such loathsome fare?
I beseech thee, cast off this odd affection, this love for what ought to be spurned. Seek instead pleasures wholesome and pure, for therein will thy soul find truer satisfaction. Let not thy noble nature be marred by this bizarre appetite, lest thou be forever known as one whose tongue doth linger where it ought not!