Never Do This With a Rolling Pin

Never.

It's very late at night.

You stand before a table.

<<poetic description of the darkness. Something involving the phrase "ghostly pale" or "impenetrable black," or "magenta">>

You stand before a table.

You remove your brain.

REACH!

Into your head you REACH!

Out comes the brain, still moist.

PLOP! On to the table it goes.

PLOP! On to the table it goes.

REACH!

You reach for a rolling pin.

REACH!

You reach for a rolling pin.

<<insert description of the rolling pin in your hand>>

This is disgusting.

REACH!

This is disgusting.

EACH!

You grasp the rolling pin firmly.

Trembling slightly with.

The wood meets the brain.

ROLL ROLL ROLLLLLL you flatten the brain quite thoroughly.

<<minutely detailed description of every moment of brain flattening>>

You wipe your sweaty brow and stare down at the quite thoroughly flattened, mushy, pancake-like mass of your rolled brain.

The inside of your head.

"Looks like mush."

But yes, that mush contains every memory. Every word. Every thought. Your understanding of absolutely everything. IN fact, YOU are inside that mush. All your thoughts, your perception...soul. Yourself.

REACH!

Gingerly you slurp.