Delilah: Samson! Why do you imprison my love in the dungeon of mistrust? The hypnotism of my succulent *******, and the soothing soft feel of my moist lips, your stolid heart betrays. You really do have the strength of a God, but even a God is subject to the mind blowing caresses of a goddess. Prove your love to me by submitting to just this nagging request, and our much anticipated wedlock which you very much desire will be certain. Samson: Your words turn me on as much as the moist feel of your honey gate. How could I ever resist thee Delilah? Certainly at your behest, I bequeath my awesome and divine strength. Delilah: Then rest your troubled head on the comfort of my massaging hands, and see that there never was nor can ever be, a warm resting place for your wearied head like these lovely hands of mine designed like a pillow fit for a Prince.