For my creative writing class, I had to write something with the prompt: "Did she really do that...?" So here it is. I really hope you are somewhere near a trashcan cause you might need it

"Stricken with horror, I was trapped in my seat, subjected to the deplorable events that occered on October Twelfth, in the year of 2007. She reached her sausagey fingers under the sickly diaphonous cover of an extra tight yet extra large t-shirt, and if masterfully playing a grand piano concerto, began scratching between the numberous rolls, no- baguettes rather- of pasty, fatty flesh, digging around as if frantically searching for something important on an archaeological expedition. Her meaty, pudgy fingers travelled southwards, yet I could not tear myself away from the hideous scene. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion; you knew carnage was to ensue, but as if they were glued open, your eyes couldnt bear to look away. Mechanically scratching like a neurotic dog with those disgustingly fake and clawlike fire engine red fingernails, her hand was like a massive luxury liner that sent huge ripples through the doughy cellulite oceans of her FLESH. As her fat continued to jiggle as flan, tiramisu, or other various desserts that you will never eat again, her enormous, saggy and hotdog-esque breasts flapped around like a pair of hyper lapdogs, or abnormally huge Bavarian Weisswurst links...."

the bell cut me off there, so that's all! sorry to disappoint!