YAH
Well alright I’m gonna tell you a little bit about Mr.
Factory now
Welcome one, welcome all
To Mr. Factory’s Impossible Sauce Factorarium
Located in the gulletal system of sir Factory himself in the flesh,
Make your way, into the foyer
See what there is to see as reason to stay
Take your belly out with satisfaction
Open your closed door into the world
Yeah
Here’s a thing or two about this guy!
His whole digestital system was a wonderland of flavors emporium
That’s right
Make your way into his stomach
Open this door into the esophagal sphincter
And sample the chunklets of deliciousity and ???
In this broiled soup of the kings belly. Yeah
Oh it tastes so good!
Streaming arounddd…splashing around with the flavas now
Oh yeah oh yeah and we laid on the shores
And the granules of sand were actually granules of sugar of salt
Mixed together in a perfect flavor emplasticity??
That’s right, now feast your eyes
On the cheap foil cauldron
Dribbly pot
Manufacturing garlic explosion cloves
Only to be broken down and reassembled into
flavor crystals
And then crawl your way up the wall into the control room tower
Of the kings brain, visual system
And then you will see the whole system as it lies on its own
And they turn flavor into flavor brew only to spill them out into flavor anew
And then you may trip and find yourself in a place that you did not see before
You weren’t even expecting, “I didn’t know this was part of the digestive system of any living being!”
Mr Factory’s system within it, it does exist!
Call it the cockle eden
And all a sudden, you start to feel the ground shaking
Sweating beneath your eyes and above your lip
Your own garlic is starting to spill
With a sickly, unbearable warmth, the insides of your mouth roar and pulsate
You feel your whole body quiver as you realize
That the world itself is starting to rumble and roll and as we exit
A geyser of garlic and insane jets of air start clacking
And again you are sucked back in the glitter of rippling foam
Of laughing digestive flesh
And extend your way up the elevator
From the boiling cess pool
Into chunky burger sauce taste budget grinders
Flavor king’s visceral emporium shakes your brain to a pleasant thoughtless glue
And your joints and muscles will melt into the edges of things you couldn’t even exist
You couldn’t even think existed into a FLAVOR HOLEEE
And you melt, you melt away like that cheese did on top of your sandwich.

And suddenly you find yourself in a courtyard garden at the base of Mr Factory’s brain
With strangling fig vine skeletons crawling with colorful archaeopteryx birds
And you see the ceiling, it’s a fractallized diamond galaxy of empty space
And your face goes numb, your pupils myalize and grow fat
Only to melt out of your sockets as glistening fat black tears
And your spine snakes its way out the base of your skull
To intertwine itself amongst the fig vines in the base of Mr Factory’s asylum
And your face pokes through the layers of cheesecake flabpa
And you can feast your eyes and the endless ocean of blinding reality
For only a moment or so you stand on the shore on the island tip of true experience
In stupefied, inspired awe
Outside the churning automaton mechanism of Mr Factory’s intestine
Enlarged and dumbfounded, sinking into the sand, realizing
This is what you’ve been missing the whole time
You’ve been tasting you’ve been feeling your way up into the meaning that is
This is the outside, this is the only thing that exists
And you sweat, and you realize “Well I’m never going to remember this again
This is the one time I ever get to experience this wonderful thing:
To be able to see outside Mr Factory’s mouth”
And suddenly you feel your weight getting sucked back in

To again be lost among the undulating waves of bubbling visceral pleasure
But pleasure, what is pleasure? Is it flavor? Is it feeling great?
Is it feeling that kingly feeling you feel after a huge meal
Slathered in burger sauce and garlic flavor?
Or, is it that feeling you get when you sink down and you sink your way into a couch
After eating way too much and you fall asleep…

And again you spill your way
To the base of Mr Factory’s brain
With strangling fig fine skeletons crawling with colorful archaeopteryx birds
You see the ceiling is a fractallized diamond galaxy of empty space
And again, your face grows numb, your pupils mialyze and grow fat
Only to melt out of their sockets as glistening fat black tears
And your spine snakes its way out of your own skull
To intertwine itself amongst the fig vines at the base of Mr Factory’s zylum

And again your face pokes through the layers
Ssspilled out, vomited again to be amongst the world of blinding reality
That you thought you had lost forever
And foaming* up in your soul you stand on the shore of the island tip
Of true experience in stupefied, inspired awe
Outside the churning automaton mechanism of Mr Factory’s intestine
Being tickled by the microvilli
Of the intestines that have at once inverted themselves to become the outside of the system of the whole
Kick him, tickle him, ya feel it, like a king
Conducing this whole reality as you are the one who actually understands what it is
A churning automaton of flavor factory, that’s Mr Factory
Ohhh wait!
And then you feel Mr Factory creeping up behind you
Because now you realize he is a being as you are you
And he can suck you up just like you started in
Because you are nothing but this little bacterium that was swimming around in his intestine system before
And once found its way out, only once… or twice

ROOHGHG HA HA AAHAA
OHWA
You find your way jamming in the stream of flavor
Caught between the balance of whether flavor is important or truth
Which one is it? Which one is the true flavoral experience because that is what matters
Does it not?
Well let us find out, take one more bite of that explosion sandwich you have there in your pocket
Take it out, unwrap it from the foil, and begin your munch session once anew
And find that its not what is outside your skin that’s tingling away
But that stuff thats goin on, churnin around in your own belly
Where you used to exist within Mr Factory
You know what I mean?
Yeah, yeah I know you do
And groove down, groove with him
In Mr Factory’s Impossible Sauce Factorarium
Hyes
And you might find one day that you decide to crawl back into Mr Factory’s mouth
Because well goddamnit that place was wonderful
Such a wonderland of…all those things…that feel so great
Why not? Whats better out here?
Faced with no real fears
With Mr Factory