Uterine Fury

You do too many things.

I don't stop, my dear.

You don't have to stop.

Like the ginger jam.

Don't tell me what's wrong with you.

Because I know.

What you have is uterine furor.

Your pee stings.

Yes.

You're irritated, the chochame.

A little.

A little.

I know everything.

By the way, where are you going to take care of your ideal hair?

To a hair salon.

Hair salon? I've heard of it.

I'll recommend it to you.

I want you to erase that smile from now on.

Because we're going to enter a world

obscene and dark.

To deal with your problem

you're going to have to sing.

To this adherence to the outside world.

I have to sing.

Sing, sing!

Sing to me, you told me, sing to me!

Sing, sing to me, sing to me!

I'm the one who yells at you.

It's important not to laugh.

Or I'll have to slap you.

You have to concentrate.

You have to get involved.

You have to get involved in this

union with the two worlds.

Sing, sing!

I'm that little black man from tropical Africa.

Very good, very good.

You feel better, don't you?

A little.

You're entering a trance.

Look here, look here.

There.

Relax, relax.

Relax.

Relax the walls of your chocho.

Relax.

...