“Alright, kiddies and deviants, gather round. This ain’t your momma’s bedtime story, no sir. We’re diving headfirst—no, crotch-first—into the gaping void, Where stars explode and libidos combust. You ready for some interstellar depravity? Well, buckle up, buttercup, it’s time to ride.” Cosmic Carnality. In the glint of her galactic gaze, A fire burned, a sickening blaze. Her curves were black holes, her lips were lies, She swallowed my ship between her thighs. Oh, Space Pussy, queen of the void, You leave me trembling, asteroids destroyed. Her nebula hands caressed my helm, A flesh-fueled odyssey, her starry realm. I cried to the heavens, “Is this my fate?” But her tongue whispered back, “You’re already too late.” he Chant of the Void Monster cock, rock it raw, Ripping through her spatial law. Grind me down with cosmic shock, All aboard the Monster Cock. Stellar Eruption. We tangled our atoms in a lustful spin, Her milky way dripping down my chin. She moaned in waves, a gamma-ray scream, Twisting my sanity into a lurid dream. Her tails wrapped tight like Saturn’s rings, Binding me to her unholy things. A goddess of chaos, a mistress of fire, Her cosmic pull fueled my raw desire. Psychedelic Orgy. “And then the uni cracked open… Not with a bang, but with a thrust. Every star shivered, every quasar quaked— Oh, and honey, every orbit’s a mistake when you’re this far gone.” Chant. Oh, Space Pussy, suck the sun dry! Devour my galaxy, make me cry! Your claws are sharp, your tongue’s insane, You’re the queen of pleasure and cosmic pain. The Great Collapse She whispered, “Darling, let me feast,” As I became her celestial beast. Our passion erupted, planets were slain, Leaving stardust trails of love and shame. She drained my fuel, left me limp, A broken rocket, her cosmic simp. But even as I spiraled into the abyss, I craved her touch, her fatal kiss. Climactic Descent. Monster cock, crash and burn, Through her black hole, I’ll never return. Twist my fate, break the clock, Bow to the queen of Monster Cock. “And there it is, folks—love, lust, destruction, and a dash of existential dread. You wanted space? You wanted fire? Well, you got both, wrapped in a twisted tale of cosmic fornication. Now go home, and for the love of the stars…don’t look up tonight.” In true Zappa style surreal, absurd, and musically deranged. "Gather 'round, you sick little freaks, Here's the tale of how the monstercock speaks. Before the galactic dong took the stage, There was leather, latex, and Clive!’s unholy rage!" In a basement dungeon with fluorescent light, Daniel FX Staal was cooking up fright. He had brushes dipped in blood, dreams stitched with chains, A poet of flesh who adored dark stains. Clive! Barker appeared with a grin of glee, Said, “Daniel, let’s collaborate on depravity!” So they poured some gin in a skull-shaped glass, Drafted nightmares that made the Devil harass. But the story began with a cosmic twist— An ancient relic, a monster missed. The Cock of Ages, from a planet obscene, Trapped in ice, but still obscene. Oh yeah, let the monstercock rise! A tale of galactic lust that fries your eyes. Before the flesh warped, before the queens moaned, This cock was a legend, trapped in stone. Long before Rachel sniffed her last, Or the tentacles danced in space so vast, The monstercock slept in a cursed void, Awaiting a bard with a taste for Freud. Daniel whispered to Clive!, “What if it’s alive!?” And the latex shimmered—pure sleaze contrived. They wrote on skin, called it “Genesis Dong,” A script so filthy it broke every bong. Lloyd Kaufman appeared, eyes lit with slime, Said, “Boys, this trash is pure Troma time!” The monstercock throbbed in every scene, A creature so obscene it made Freud scream. Oh yeah, the dong awakens, In a prequel where morality’s shaken. From latex to flesh, to cosmic decay, The monstercock slithered, carving its way. Deep in the plot, they found the lore, An alien queen who begged for more. Her name was Rue, with a tongue so split, She whispered, “Daniel, unleash the cosmic wit!” They summoned the monstercock with chants of shame, And a neon orgy in the monster’s name. The dong emerged, dripping with goo, Its roar declared “I’ll destroy all you!” But instead of terror, the galaxy cheered, For the monstercock’s powers were weirdly revered. Oh yeah, the cock of doom, Fills the galaxy with sexual gloom. Before the sequels and Rachel’s blow, The monstercock was the star of the show. “And thus, the monstercock rose to fame, Carved its place in the hall of shame. Daniel and Clive!, masters of sleaze, Brought art to the gutters with galactic ease.” The Making of the Monster Cock, and the Death of Snow Woke. Written By Well, my name’s Daniel FX Staal, I’m the king of debauchery, I’ve seen it all. I write poems about flesh, desire, and death, Make people squirm with every breath. I paint with blood, my muse is pain, Leather and chains drive my brain insane. One night I got a call from Clive Barker himself, Said, “Daniel, your madness makes Hell look like health!” Met Clive! at a club with a velvet floor, Where the subs crawl naked through a secret door. He said, “Daniel, you’re sick, and I mean that right, Let’s weave our nightmares into pure delight.” So we drank absinthe with a girl named Rue, She had a forked tongue and tattoos too. We wrote a script on her pale, wet skin, A story of sin where the devils always win. Oh yeah, I’m Daniel FX Staal, Dripping filth from the poet’s scrawl. I paint in blood, I sing in screams, Clive! and I, the kings of obscene dreams. We built a world where the flesh was law, Where the Cenobites danced in a kinky cabal. Clive said, “Daniel, this is art divine, Every whip stroke is a twisted line.” But the deeper we dug, the more I lost, Became the subject of my own dark cost. Rue turned to chains, Clive! turned to flame, Now I’m just a shadow, moaning my name. Now I roam the galleries of lust and gore, A cursed exhibit on the pain I adore. Collectors line up, they beg for a taste, But my body’s a temple of unholy waste. Clive! still calls me when the nights grow thin, Says, “Daniel, my friend, shall we sin again?” I just laugh and carve his name in my thigh, Saying, “This is the art where the living die.” The Making of the Monster Cock, and the Death of Snow Woke. Written By Well, my name’s Daniel FX Staal, I’m the king of debauchery, I’ve seen it all. I write poems about flesh, desire, and death, Make people squirm with every breath. I paint with blood, my muse is pain, Leather and chains drive my brain insane. One night I got a call from Clive Barker himself, Said, “Daniel, your madness makes Hell look like health!” “Hey, Clive!, let’s write another story, baby. I’ll bleed, you stitch, we’ll call it fame’s last orgy. And maybe next time, we’ll find Hell's sweet G-spot.” See the Chick with 3 Tits on the barstool she's waiting on a jerk, A Total Recall, The Terminator... If yes she likes the way he looks she'll put his ass to work And you know she's been all around the block Tried a doctor, lawyer, even tried a jock But she loves my monster cock Loves my monster cock! Loves my monster cock! Yes she Loves my monster cock? “Hey, Clive! let’s write another story, baby. I’ll bleed, you stitch, we’ll call it fame’s last orgy. And maybe next time, we’ll find Hell's sweet G-spot. Well, I’m Daniel FX Staal, the king of the freaks, Well, I’m Daniel FX Staal, the king of the freaks, Where leather-bound lovers take tongue-in-cheek. I write poems about Hell that’ll make you blush, Each word’s a whip crack, each rhyme’s a thrust. Clive Barker slid into my DMs one day, Said, “Your work’s like Hellraiser, but dirtier in a way. Let’s mix your filthy mind with my sweet decay, We’ll make a masterpiece of rot, mold, and foreplay.” Oh yeah, I’m Daniel FX Staal, I make darkness sexy, I’ve got the gall. If there’s a line to cross, I’ll crawl right through, And drag your dirty little secrets too. We met at a dungeon in the back of a mall, A suburban nightmare where the kinksters crawl. Clive said, “Daniel, this place is a joke, But that chick in the latex just might provoke.” So we conjured a tale with knives and heat, Where demons do the tango on human meat. The plot was simple a fetish gone wrong, And every scream doubled as a xylophone song. Oh yeah, I’m Daniel FX Staal, The bard of the bordello, the devil’s drawl. I’ll make you cringe, I’ll make you laugh, And leave your mind in a blood-stained bath. Then we hit a séance run by goths in fishnet tights, They summoned a ghost who just wanted a bite. She looked at Clive and said, “Is that your kink?” He said, “Baby, with me, it’s the kitchen sink!” I showed her my poems, she showed me her scars, Said, “I like your words, but I’ll stick to cigars.” That ghost became the muse of our unholy tale, Where every climax ended with a rusty nail. We pitched it to Netflix; they said, “Too raw.” I said, “Fine, I’ll sell it to Pornhub, y’all!” The title The Flesh That Fucked Itself*, A guide to self-love for the per bookshelf. It sold a million copies in the Vatican’s store, Where the priests took notes and begged for more. Clive! said, “Daniel, we’ve broken the mold, We’re gods of sleaze, we’re pure fool’s gold.” Oh yeah, I’m Daniel FX Staal, The poet of filth who has it all. From pain to fame, I’m your sinful delight, So grab a whip, baby, and let’s ignite. “Hey, Clive! I think the pope just ordered ten copies. Can you autograph one with blood this time? Let’s keep the scandals coming, Pee Diddy—hell’s running out of content.” So Clive and I were in a filthy haze, Plotting our masterpiece for the sleaziest plays. We sat in my crypt with a bottle of gin, Drafting a script on stretched-out skin. It was human parchment, tattooed and stained, The perfect canvas for the depraved and deranged. Clive said, “What’s the plot, Daniel, don’t hold back.” I said, “It’s cosmic porn, baby, with a monstercock attack!” Oh yeah, space pussies and a monstrous dong, It’s high art, baby, just filthy and wrong. With Lloyd Kaufman directing, we’ll go beyond, To a galaxy where every fetish responds. We called it The Cosmic Crotch A Love So Deep, Where alien queens make human lovers weep. The plot’s about a ship called Pulsar Delight, Where the crew’s torn apart by sexual fright. The monstercock slithers, dripping with goo, Its roar’s like thunder, and its kiss’ll undo. And the space pussies? Oh, Clive!’s brilliant twist, They’re shape-shifting traps, impossible to resist. Oh yeah, tentacles and screams in zero G, Lloyd said, “This is Troma’s legacy!” We’ll shoot it on a budget made of pocket lint, But trust me, baby, it’ll be heaven-sent. We sent Lloyd the skin-bound script overnight, He called back laughing, said, “This feels so right! I’ll shoot it in Jersey, with buckets of slime, And hire the weirdos who’ll work for a dime.” He said, “Daniel, Clive! you’re depraved as hell, But this monstercock’s got box office swell. We’ll add mutant sexbots and radioactive lube, And a musical number in the alien cube!” The press got wind of our monstrous plan, Said, “It’s too obscene, ban it while you can!” But Lloyd just laughed and said, “Bring it on, This movie’s the reason trash art’s never gone!” We held auditions in a strip club’s lair, Where the dancers brought tentacles to wear. The space pussies were prosthetic marvels of gore, And the monstercock? A latex beast they’d adore. Oh yeah, space pussies and monstercock rise, A sleazy epic in the galaxy’s skies. With Kaufman’s genius, we’ll conquer the screen, In the filthiest sci-fi porno ever seen. “Clive!, Lloyd’s got the slime cannons ready, And the monstercock costume’s disturbingly lifelike. This’ll make Tromeo and Juliet look like a Disney flick. Now, who’s got the tentacle polish?” Lloyd Kaufman had a vision, bold and raw, He said, “Let’s cast Snow Woke, she’s got that flaw. Rachel Sightless, the princess of sass, We’ll slap her in latex, and she’ll show some class.” But Rachel had a habit, white as snow, Each take she’d vanish with a subtle blow. Lloyd shouted, “Action!” but she’d just giggle and twitch, Saying, “I’m method, baby, I’m the coked-out witch!” Oh yeah, Snow Woke’s on coke, Every line’s a mess, every scene’s a joke. She’s a Disney star with a party’s fate, But in this Troma flick, she’s the princess of late. Oh yeah, Snow Woke’s on coke, Every line’s a mess, every scene’s a joke. She’s a Disney star with a party’s fate, But in this Troma flick, she’s the princess of late. On set she pranced in a glittery thong, Tried to ad-lib duets with the monstercock song. Clive! watched in horror, Daniel couldn’t cope, As Rachel sniffed lines off the boom mic rope. She screamed, “I’m an artist! Don’t stifle my soul! This snow is my magic, it keeps me whole!” But each line she snorted made her mind unwind, And the space pussies groaned, “She’s wasting our time!” Oh yeah, Snow Woke’s on coke, She’s a fairy-tale meltdown, a powdered joke. Lloyd said, “Let her burn, the cameras will roll, This train wreck’s perfect for Troma’s goal.” The final scene was a masterstroke, A climactic orgy of pussies and smoke. Rachel stumbled in, eyes wide and red, Said, “This is my moment!” and promptly dropped dead. The monstercock paused, its tentacles froze, As Lloyd whispered, “Perfect. That’s how it goes.” Clive! said, “This is art, a tragic ascent.” Daniel just sighed, “Well, at least the skin rent’s spent.” The tabloids erupted, the headlines screamed, “Snow Woke Princess A Coke-Fueled Dream.” The Oscars snubbed it, but Troma fans cheered, “The Cosmic Crotch” became the sleaziest premiere. Rachel’s performance was posthumously praised, But her habit left Hollywood thoroughly dazed. Clive! said, “At least she died doing her art.” Lloyd grinned, “Or at least she died doing her part.” Oh yeah, Snow Woke’s last coke, A powdered fairy tale that went up in smoke. A Disney princess turned Troma’s queen, The filthiest tragedy the world has seen. “Lloyd, should we dedicate it to Rachel?” “Nah, let’s just use her death for the poster. ‘The Cosmic Crotch She Gave It Her Last Sniff.’ Perfect!” Perfect!” “Rachel Sightless’s Cosmic Legacy Ashes to Snort” The posthumous rise of a powdered legend Years passed by, and the world caught on, Troma’s Cosmic Crotch became the new dawn. It screened in basements and seedy bars, A midnight hit under filthy stars. Rachel’s tragic end became the myth, The princess who died on a cocaine drift. Fans made shrines with glitter and lace, Worshipping her smile, her powdered grace. Oh yeah, her ashes in a vial, Her fans went crazy, it was all worthwhile. They said, “To honor our queen, we’ve got to inhale, Rachel’s last gift, a cosmic cocktail.” Her cremation was simple, just heat and bone, But her fans made plans to claim her throne. They bought the urn, called it “Snow White’s Dust,” And snorted her remains in a fevered lust. At conventions they’d gather, in lines they’d wait, To sniff her ashes on collector plates. “Rachel Liv!s in us!” they screamed with pride, As the monstercock danced in holographic stride. Oh yeah, ashes up their nose, A fandom that worships how she chose to go. From cult flick star to nasal delight, Rachel’s in their bloodstream every night. Lloyd Kaufman laughed, “This is cinema gold, Fans snorting their idol—it’s never been told!” Clive! Barker smirked, “The horror is pure, A devotion this sick is art, I’m sure.” Daniel FX Staal wrote poems that rhymed, “From flesh to ash, Rachel’s divine.” The ashes were merch, sold by the gram, Packaged as “Snow Woke’s Eternal Jam.” They even made sequels, but none compared, To the legend of Rachel and the fans who dared. Her ashes fueled orgies, her name sparked fights, She was the goddess of all midnight nights. But one poor fan, a little too bold, Snorted a handful, and his soul was sold. Now Rachel’s voice echoes in the Troma , “Sniff me again, darling—it only gets worse!” Oh yeah, ashes in the wind, A cult classic born from cocaine and sin. Rachel’s legacy is powder and flame, The Cosmic Queen who conquered shame. Lloyd “Who knew Rachel’s biggest role would be posthumous?” Clive! “She’s eternal now—ashes to ashes, dust to nostrils.” Daniel “It’s poetic, really. Art burns brightest when it’s inhaled.” Lloyd “Get me a bump of that legacy merch. Let’s celebrate!” Lloyd Kaufman laughed, “This is cinema gold, Fans snorting their idol—it’s never been told!” Clive! Barker smirked, “The horror is pure, A devotion this sick is art, I’m sure.” Daniel FX Staal wrote poems that rhymed, “From flesh to ash, Rachel’s divine.” The ashes were merch, sold by the gram, Packaged as “Snow Woke’s Eternal Jam.” Monster cock, cock rock, Seed rocks out my monster cock, Right between her space, her fire, Her cosmic pull fuels raw desire. He chased the flame, her celestial glow, A predator queen, her power on show. Her tails wrap tight; his breath takes flight, Bound in her light, lost to the night. Eyes of suns burn deep in his core, Macabre ecstasy craves evermore. Art’s laughter twists as the trap takes hold, In her grasp, his spirit is sold. Monster cock, cock rock, Seed rocks out my monster cock, Right between her space, her heat, Where stars collide and darkness meets. Through nebula tides, his atoms dissolve, A cosmic whisper in her light evolves. Her black hole heart devours his cries, Twisting his chaos through endless skies. Bound and broken, Art fades to dust, A fragment of lust, consumed by thrust. Yet in her pull, he lingers still, A haunting echo, a fate fulfilled. The Spacelord roams with hunger ignited, A predator’s fury, raw and delighted. Through voids and stars, he seeks the clown, To shatter his madness and drag him down. Monster cock, cock rock, Seed rocks out my monster cock, Between her stars, her dark delight, Consuming gods in endless night. Inspiratus strikes with claws of flame, In Space Pussy’s realm, he stakes his claim. Art’s laughter echoes, obscene and wild, Fueling the clash of beasts beguiled. Chains and claws tear through the void, Galaxies quake as worlds are destroyed. Space Pussy shudders, caught in their feud, A goddess bound in passion’s crude. Monster cock, cock rock, Seed rocks out my monster cock, Her celestial core, her spectral scream, A throne of lust, a fractured dream. In cosmic shadow, her vengeance grows, A queen reborn, her power shows. Through blackened stars, she takes her place, A darkened queen, lost in space. Her pull eternal, her wrath untamed, The Spacelord kneels, his soul reclaimed. A twisted union, their tale retold, In lust and chaos, their legacy bold. Monster cock, cock rock, Seed rocks out my monster cock, Her throne of stars, her endless reign, Bound by blood, through pleasure and pain. Monster cock, cock rock, Seed rocks out my monster cock, Her throne of stars, her endless reign, Bound by blood, through pleasure and pain.