I wake up in the morning on a carved mahogany bed in the middle of a vast and bright desert that is exactly 68F degrees. I walk along a pathway of cool obsidian flat plates placed for my cleanliness and convenience toward a small decrepit shack. Once I open the door to the shack, I am greeted by a vast and gorgeous series of stonework and statues in a forested villa, with cascading water and large shallow ponds. Voluptuous and nude black female servants come to me from beneath the water and clean my orifices. I walk to a vastly open ceiling area made of marble with an onyx floor with decorative ebony patterns of unimaginably fine detail and symmetry that all coalesce into a perfect center with a recess and a drain hole. Above it is a perfectly shaved and plucked Anderson Cooper, on his knees waiting to receive my morning piss with an open mouth and eager expression. In heaven, each piss lasts at least 30 orgasmic sessions. An attractive Nubian maid presents a golden jeweled platter once I finish urinating on and around Anderson Coopers mouth. On it is a silver plated CZ75 automatic pistol with brown wooden grips. Anderson Cooper greedily snatches it once presented and blows his brains out in front of me while screaming my name.