Association game.

The sunny tail of a feathered goldfish is shaved with an awl, washed down with the gentle-ascetic acid of warm fermentation along the verticals of frosty skies, a sausage-symphonic orchestra crumbling into a single whole in a burst of calm emanating from the sacred dogmatism of curly chastity, trying to materialize in methoxychlorodiethylaminomethylbutylaminoacridine through partial electrometallurgical hydrolysis of unwashed underwear from the 33rd party congress of a communist-dentist-cheese-tomato-apathetic delegation of bald hedgehogs, splitting specks into high-molar postulates of a whitish-bumpy synthesizer structure.

Hmm... go ahead...