Them: How was the shower?
Me (Having returned from the bathroom where the showerhead beckoned to me, metal, coiled and rigid with a bearing like a terrifying mechanical angel, as it whispered gently to me - oh my son, oh my son! You have returned from your long travels, there is such a dryness upon you. Let me wash you, renew you, baptize you and bring you to warmth. Let my tears of joy envelop and surround you and remove what is dry and return you to what is good and what is wet. Now step within my range, and become yourself once more): Yeah, good thanks.