You are suggesting that I take part in the disgusting habits of you
filthy Maggots? Leave such tainted thoughts resting on your tongue.
Where I wear a wedding ring, and am ever faithful to my husband, you
wear a slave's collar, stamped with your sibling's mark of property,
happy to be handed from one Magnagoran to the next, regardless of blood
relation.

Whatever happens in the comfort of my manse, you can be assured is
nothing like the crimes of the common-kissing prostitutes who walk the
streets of Magnagora.

You undead are revolting. Truly the tainted has taken not only to a
warped sense of simple indulgences, but twists the mind into sickening
perversion as well.

Penned by my hand on the 16th of Klangiary, in the year 193 CE.