He turned his eyes away from the film just enough to see her glancing at him at the same moment. They both grinned as they realised that this thing was happening, turned to face one another and moved in for a kiss, but, with dreadful inevitability, the side of his face nearest her suddenly collapsed in a frightful attack of Bell’s Palsy, leaving him not only in poor shape for a kiss but also struggling to stop popcorn and Tizer falling and dribbling from his mouth and down onto her white Kappa tracksuit top as she screamed and withdrew in disgust.
No brassiere in the world could have fully accommodated the weight and volume of her colossal bosom. Even if it had, the bra would have needed a support structure of its own in order to avoid collapsing. And some sort of wheeled spittoon or guttering would have been required to collect and re-route the almost torrential, spunky run-off that was the inevitable dividend of her voluptuous mien.