I awoke the next day and noticed my tits felt screwed up, so I sought out my master who was deep in mediation, in The Tunnel. Assuming the unending flower of shinning bliss posture, I waited for the ritual for 12 hours, at which point he opened his eyes, leaped to his feet and shouted an inch from my face, his breath smelling of garlic and fornic spee, UNSCREW YOUR TITS ROCKET MAN!!!