a nude john mccain hurtles through space toward a decommissioned space station. slowly, he pulls his knees to his chest and closes his eyes as his bowels begin to expel hundreds upon hundreds of beautiful, symmetrical turds, brown as the day is long. john laughs like a young girl as his turds drift aimlessly behind him; they are as butterflies to a child frolicking in the fields of elysium. he approaches the station’s docking port, flaccid cock in hand, and prepares to float gently into its inviting confines. he extends his cockless arm jubilantly, as to celebrate the majesty and depth of space, and thanks jesus christ for this ultimate gift and blessing. but suddenly, his outstretched arm collides with the outer rim of the docking port, and the trajectory of his quaggy body is violently halted. the fates afford him barely enough time to turn his head before the turds arrive. one thousand turds, each one seemingly larger than the last. he tries in vain to cleanse his eyes of the shitsting, but succeeds only in smearing his own fecal matter into a fine asspaste, which slowly seeps into his eyes and nasal cavity. john inhales three hundred and twenty four Space Turds; his lungs are permeated completely with John McCain Shit. john hangs lax, spirit broken, defeated by poop. he will never be the same. he is forever a shit faggot.