Breakfast Squirt Break (Shes Gonna Squirt) Come closer, Randolph. Let me tell you of what I saw. Do not be afraid, this madness is not contagious, unless you look upon what I have. I dare to say that after you have heard my warning, you shan't. I do not know what became of Manuel Ferrera, I do not like to guess, but the last I looked upon him he was gibbering from exposure to a queer essence I will now describe to you as best I can. It has no colour and only a fool would guess at its odor or taste. It appears with the consistency of water, but my friend, Randolph, heed my words: it is not water. It emerges with little warning, a riot of action that drenches everything in the area, from beyond a human threshold I dare not describe. The winds of the stars shiver the curtain that hangs upon the stage of our reality, then this essence stirs mortal curtains as easily as the forgotten gods lost to history. Go! Randolph, begone! Forget me and my plight. Forget I ever existed! But remember the squirt.
Previously, previously, previously.
Quite a challenge here, but this is on topic: "We report the cloning of a bull using cells retrieved from testicles that had been taken from a dead animal and frozen without cryoprotectant in a −80°C freezer for 10 years. We obtained live cells from defrosted pieces of the spermatic cords of frozen testicles. The cells proliferated actively in culture and were apparently normal.... We obtained five pregnancies and four cloned calves developed to term. Our results indicate that complete genome sets are maintained in mammalian organs even after long-term frozen-storage without cryoprotectant, and that live clones can be produced from the recovered cells."