8.15b

He looked over at her blank. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He needed her to blank blank. To blank her blank. They were too blank for words. Slowly, his blank built to a bursting point, and he yelled "Susan, please blank your shoes!"

He looked over at her feet. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He needed her to put on shoes. To cover her toes. They were too horrendous for words. Slowly, his courage built to a bursting point, and he yelled "Susan, please wear your shoes!"

He looked over at her desk. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He needed her to dirty it. To rearrange her pens, books, and papers. They were too tidy for words. Slowly, his anger built to a bursting point, and he yelled "Susan, please throw your shoes!"

He looked over at her chin. He couldn't hold it in anymore. He needed her to start shaving. To clean her whiskers. They were too numerous for words. Slowly, his disgust built to a bursting point, and he yelled "Susan, please blank your shoes!"

As with most things, life falls apart if you try to hold the pattern together too long.
Entropy, you win.