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Subject: {ASSM} Captain Suck 1/1 {virgosun} (MF sci-fi humour)
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<1st attachment, "captain_suck.txt" begin>
CAPTAIN SUCK
(or, "Benny Barker's Breakdown")
by virgosun
(c) March 2004
========================================
STARFLEET ACADEMY CURRICULUM
UNIT 39/554/OH&REC
AUTHORITY: A. KUNTHOFFER, LT CMDR
LOADING...
***
Proteus raised his optic disks on stems, which helped
him see over the writhing sea of flesh and bioplasm on
the Dance Confluence disc. Exotix was crowded tonight
and pumping; just what he didn't need if his sources
were to be believed. He was mildly concerned, but not
unduly; it was the usual motley selection, the regulars.
The pimps offered him sidelong glances or raised crests
that flushed orange; he undulated his eyes up-down-up in
acknowledgement. Since he wasn't wearing his Justice
Legion tunic, truce was called. He was just checking in
for a leisurely, post-duty drink of course.
He procured a neat Daikohol-and-rye-grass from the
Terran theme bar, morphing his thumb and two digit
appendage to seven digits to handle the amphora
properly. Moving toward the booths, he located a source
of potential trouble, the gut-feeling that had been
boiling his bellyacid since the tipoff had come.
One couldn't miss Light O'Connor, since without an
antigrav unit she weighed as much as an orbital shuttle.
Flanking her as ever, within her own personal gravity
well were her sisters, Love and Liberty. To say these
triplets were trouble on their own was an
understatement. Love, who had never felt any gentle
impulse toward anything was a registered psychopath;
Liberty was wearing a cyberhood and sucking
industriously on the sensor-bulb slung at mouth-level.
And probably racking up good cred doing so, jollying
some Daikon Incorporated exec stuck in low-orbital
jetlock.
Worse than that, the triplets were not alone; rather in
the company of their Delinquency Eradication Academic
Training Helpers. The trouble with this pair was their
affiliation with the Tactical Women's Assault Team, an
organisation of dubious repute at best.
"Good evening, Roxon, gels," Proteus smiled, pulling his
eyes in safely away from Love's sneering reach. "Hello
Akrat, don't let me interrupt," he said to the blonde
who was bouncing up and down on the lap of the hugely-
muscled Terran male specimen. He was a holograph anyway;
a shop-assistant she had lifted from the local KiMart.
Akrat gasped and muttered something incoherent.
"Whaddya want, Proteus?" Roxon growled, crossing
armourplated leggings and steel boots heavily on the
tabletop before him.
"I can fit you in at 12:33 but you gotta bring your own
cuffs," Liberty stopped sucking long enough to offer,
eyes still locked to the HUD of her visor. Proteus
ignored her.
"I was just wondering what might have brought you, ahem,
folks here tonight. Exotix isn't your usual hang."
"Field trip." Roxon gestured at the triplets. "Look,
we're doing a good job with these here gels. Sitting
here quiet as gelfs. In the old days they'dve been
joyriding a spacejacked cab by now."
"Doin' our bit for society," Love snarled. Her studded
collar made it look like Roxon had her on a chain.
Midori dribbled down Light's chins like grub-blood as
she sucked on a midi-cask of the stuff and watched
Akrat.
"Most admirable," said Proteus tersely. "Nothing to do,
then, with the alleged appearance of a Grace Over
Destitution mobile reformation unit in the region?"
Of course, Roxon tensed, the joints of her construction-
worker's armour creaking, black eyes burning. Akrat,
sweat streaming down her face, looked around if she
wanted to speak, caught between her holograph's
attentions and the mention of her sworn adversaries.
Roxon mastered her reflexes. "We ain't no trouble
compared to fuckin' GOD. Reffers, uh? Like they're gonna
come in here for firewater and a Geordie enema. Make me
laugh!"
Letting his body ooze quickly forward from the confines
of his sports polo shirt, Proteus dredged up some
canines from deep in his plasm stores, and gnashed them
menacingly an inch from Roxon's bluish-white face.
"Don't you shake salt on me, Roxon Catablis! You can
take your turf war with Grace Over Destitution
elsewhere! I got legal precedent to protect the happy,
paying customers of this establishment and keep commerce
humming along properly."
"Aw, get over the corporate-speak, Proteus." Roxon
sucked from a can of Diet Daik. "Either the gels and I
sweep these idiots out, or you'll have to call the boys
in. I'll bet Lennie still hasn't got the lycanthropic
lion thing happening yet, so he'd be a fat lot of good
in a scrap."
Proteus' Justice Legion sidekick was, well,
inexperienced; most of the settlement lowlifes were
calling him names like Spinks and Meow because his head
simply wouldn't "go" when he morphed. Proteus ploughed
past that fact while Light and Love sniggered. "And I
suppose you think you and the...gels will just sit back
here and throw insults and used prophyllactics at the
GOD Squad while they proselytise, is that it? Let me
offer you a friendly warning." He pulled back into his
golf shirt and folded his pseudo-arms into a pretzel
shape. "This isn't some bunch of amateurs, they're a cut
above. Remember Pisstop Mungo? They picked him up with
their TreatMobile in broad daylight yesterday, chucked
him on a slab, slit his gut and whacked in a brand new
clean liver on top of the alky one without so much as
asking him about his lifestyle choices, or even knocking
him out first. Too quick and too astonished to feel
pain. Salvation in three seconds; he was at Employment
Retraining, Resurrection And Therapeutic Atonement
before the hour was gone, complete with pink kid suit,
new white teeth and a Daikofibre hair replacement."
Love picked up Roxon's empty steel can and crushed it in
one fist. "GOD don't scare us," said Roxon nonchalantly.
"We took out Ivan Sodof Polyestervitch and the DoomKat
office."
"Amateurs," Proteus sniffed. "Don't say I didn't warn
you. Akrat, just when exactly do you plan to return that
Triton holograph to KiMart the way we agreed? No, you
don't have to answer that with your mouth full."
"Aw, cut her some slack, Proteus, she's a former
superfunctionary coming off caffeine. Pathetic, really."
"Ahh, how the mighty have fallen." TWAT members in a
bar, with GOD extremists hanging around. Proteus poured
his jug into an oral orifice that led to a storage
bubble. He'd have to savour his drink later.
***
While Proteus called Lennie and the ops team, then his
wife to say he was sure to be late home tonight, Fleet
Cadet Benny Barker thought his ship had come in at last.
He was watching a Struuvian pyramid-dancer doing her
thing as she balanced on the tip; watching the hypnotic
way the laserlight played across the contours of her
delightfully-shaped breasts which was no mean feat,
given she had three pairs. At first, he almost didn't
notice the woman who slipped into the booth seat beside
him.
"Hello...oh, hi, hi, how are you?" He blushed when he
realised it was one of the waitresses - one of the
pretty ones. He was sure, over several weeks spent here
relaxing after study, she had been checking him out and
looking after him. Barker prided himself on taking
people as he found them, particularly alien species, so
long as like himself they had two legs, two arms, a head
and human-compatible genitalia. Multicoloured skin, bug-
eyes, none of that bothered him unduly.
Her ID badge proclaimed her Geeruble; she had first
caught his attention not just with her pretty, angelic
features, but the fact that she lingered by his table to
practice her Terran language skills. He had wandered out
of Exotix that night stunned that such a looker would
deign to chat with him. Since then, she had always
smiled and waved when he arrived; made sure she served
him, and laced his MochaChochaDaikoLatte Drench with an
extra dash of Tia Maria.
Tonight she was without her name badge, for she was also
without barmaid's uniform. Her pale skin glowed close to
blue in the UV lighting, and was spangled with
glittering flecks of silver, all the way down into the
depths of her plunging catsuit. It was amazing how those
scales caught the spectrum and diffracted it from the
generous round globes of her bosom. Gee, he'd never
noticed before. _Five Daikons, thanks!_ One tiny voice
of sense finally reached his brain, then his eyeballs as
he realised it might be a good idea to look at her face
and say something sensible as she greeted him. "Halloo
Mister Bark-Arr," she cooed sweetly, flashing silvered
eyelids. She was bald, but that was fine, her bone
structure was smooth and delicate, like antique
alabaster. From pointed ears, lacy frills and fronds
wreathed the sides and back of her skull, rising in an
elegant turquoise crest. The same membranes webbed her
hands, so that when she laced her fingerips over the
table's glowlamp it made a cool greenish lantern, making
those flecks fire green..._stop it, man!_
She knew he was "Bark-Arr" from the nameplate all cadets
wore on the tab of the chest pocket. "You must be on
your night off," he managed, grabbing a sip from his
Drench to steady his attention. "It's nice to see you,
you look great!"
"Thank you, Mista Bark-Arr," she smiled coyly, wiggling
her shoulders, which had a mind-altering effect on her
cleavage. "Do you like how I look?"
"Very much indeed. You are a beautiful woman." He
struggled back to her peacock-blue eyes, wide and round,
desperate to feign some level of sophistication.
"Please, Geeruble, call me Benny."
She nodded seriously. "Ben-ee? Yes, Ben-ee. Ben-ee and
Gee sounds good. Ben-ee and Gee better than Ben-ee and
zero-gee - it is a joke, yes?"
"A joke, very good, very funny," he laughed. "I'm not
too good at zero-gee, I gotta admit."
"But you would try anything?"
"I'm sorry?" he blushed, taken aback by the earnest
humour of her stare. Come to think of it, she didn't
blink much at all. If she had heard about the initiation
ceremonies the cadets indulged when going weightless for
the first time, those late nights in the simulator where
uniforms were optional...
She giggled into her hand. "What I mean is, would Ben-ee
let me try something, I am curious?" Gee hadn't once
taken her eyes from his face and mouth, he realised.
"Uh, that would all depend on what you had in mind!"
"What it is, you see," she said, shuffling so close to
him that her cool thigh pressed the length of his, and
he was drowning in a scent like a rich sea breeze, "is
humans, and this thing you have, and you look like a
nice man, so I wonder if you would let me..." And then
she ran the back of her fingers, very lightly, along the
grain of his beard.
Of course! Beards weren't especially fashionable for
human males at the moment. Although he was still young,
Barker, having sprung from a long line of male-pattern
baldies, was very thin on top, and was reconciled to his
fate. Daikofibre hair replacements looked silly and
unnatural, and he couldn't afford anything better; for
the time being, his peaked cap concealed the open upper
deck. He consoled himself with the fact that Nature had
overcompensated him from the jaw down; he had been the
first of the cadets to grow a proper plush beard. The
old service rule still applied that a man had to grow
substantial facial fungus within the appointed duration
if he wished to keep a beard; Barker passed that test
with flying colours, and wore his beard like a
distinguished service medal.
Gee was of a hairless species, and she was absolutely
enchanted. Barker grinned indulgently as she rubbed her
fingertips across the lay of the whiskers, feeling their
bristle-stiffness; stroked them silken and flat again;
explored the way they curled ever so slightly, and
studied the shine and colour of each fibre. "I need to
see this closer," she said, helping herself to hopping
onto his lap, breath tickling his ear.
"There's only one way you'll get any closer than this,
sweetheart," he muttered aloud but to himself. She
seemed light as a feather, and her springy, sleek butt
felt fantastic - so fantastic that the loneliest part of
his anatomy had woken from its despondent drowse and was
starting to sit up and take notice. Gee giggled, and he
couldn't help but put his arms around her narrow waist.
She had a slightly potty tum for a young woman, but
given where she was and what she was doing, Barker could
forgive her this slight imperfection.
Delight shone from her face like a beacon as she traced
how the beard merged with the longer hair at his
temples; where he had trimmed its edges, shaving some of
the fibres off to little black dots; even tracing the
arches of his eyebrows. With a gentle, careful fingertip
she stroked his eyelashes while he closed his lids to
allow her. At the same time, he could inspect her up
close, marvelling at the translucent sheen of her
flawless skin. Those iridescent flecks made gleaming,
girlish freckles across her cheekbones, and her lips
were amazing - thick and pouting, glazed with silver and
gloss that didn't seem to be painted on, but natural.
"Gee," he murmured, lips brushing her fingers as she
felt his moustache, "have you seen the human habit of
kissing a good friend?"
"Is that what it is called? I want to kiss you Ben-ee!
You would like?"
"Oh very much!" Those lips were made to drown in, all
silver like the sea on the outside, ultramarine beneath,
with a salty-sweet taste as well. Barker might have been
the first human she'd kissed, but she knew what she was
doing, and he was happy to go along with that. With his
hands he enjoyed the supple curves of her tight-clad
body, the silk of her skin, while she ran her hands
through the hair at the back of his head. When he probed
with his tongue into her mouth, he found something much
longer and thinner than a human tongue, warm and
seafood-tasty, which coiled dextrously around the tip of
his own tongue before releasing it, then exploring his
mouth.
"Beard kiss nice," she paused only to say, while
swinging from sitting across his lap to part her knees
around him. Then she pressed her face against his beard,
tongue coming out to play again, the awesome mounds of
her breasts squeezed firmly against his ribcage.
Needless to say, Barker was in seventh heaven, giving as
good as he was getting. She paused again to study the
stubble on his throat, then let it graze her lips and
tongue. Down to the open-neck collar of his tunic, where
a few stray curls of his plush chest hair escaped - she
lingered there, twisting the coils around a fingertip
while he fondled her breasts appreciatively.
"I got hair all over my body," he suggested huskily as
she eased the zip-front open.
"Kiss here?" she asked, sucking his tongue again for a
moment. "Or kiss here?" She put a hand on the tentpole
in his pants, and Barker gasped.
"Aww Gee, I love the way you kiss! But maybe we should
go and kiss some more somewhere else, like, kiss alone?"
"Kissing Room?" she asked, a gleeful light in her eyes.
"I have special kissing room." Barker nodded.
"Kissing Room? Sounds good, yeah!"
Gee stood up quickly, legs parted, holding out an
elegant hand. Barker got to weak knees and accepted,
leaving his Drench behind. They weaved between the
Dominotion tables, past the Serious Serum bar where
morbid vampires watched a stake-dancer while snorting
GM-garlic powder (hallucinogenic rather than fatal). The
Telly Port took them up to a faux Star-Trek decor
corridor where the entries were disguised as Jeffries'
Tube hatches.
Once through the brief, undignified squeeze, Barker
stood slowly, in amazement. He had emerged into what
could only be described as the largest goldfish pond he
had ever seen. The hemispheric ceiling was completely
shrouded by lush greenery, vegetation hiding the walls.
Aside from a small entryway he stood on, the floor was
one huge bluegreen swimming pool. It seemed as though
the vegetation had been scaled-up, too, as the lilypads
were at least three metres in diameter, the lotus blooms
two metres tall. A few ornamental carp made tongues of
flame in the water; fortunately, while large they seemed
to conform to species norms.
"This...is your Kissing Room?"
"Come, come, come and kissing!" Gee laughed, splashing
into the water. It wasn't as deep as it looked, frothing
around her knees as she waded in. Then she turned and
peeled off her catsuit as though moulting a used shell,
oozing sinuously from the leggings, and hurling her
boots with a splash into the water chestnuts. Lovely,
thick lips curved in a smile, she stood naked and
unashamed before Barker.
He paused only to check her over - as taught in Standard
StarFleet Furlough Safety Program Unit 553,
Extraterrestrial Mating Protocols - Biological
Compatibility. Basic human form and structure. Two large
breasts that begged to be squeezed, with a fine,
multiple micronipple structure, suggesting she had many
small offspring at once. He could live with that.
Micronipples were a good thing, generally ten times as
sensitive as a single nipple. She had no navel, so she
wasn't a placental mammal. No navel meant no navel
piercings; a good thing for Barker since he loathed
pierced navels. Best of all, no pubes, so that the neat
and very human-looking slot at her crutch was visible;
tinged lightly bluish, slightly puffy, suggesting her
lower lips were as voluptuous as those of her mouth.
Barker chuckled deep in his throat and waded to her
arms. The water was blood-heat, warm and not diminishing
his manhood in any way. Very quickly, Gee was peeling
his wet uniform from him, licking and stroking his hairy
skin. Her mouth made little "O" shapes all over him,
nipping and sucking lightly all at once, driving him
wild. They threshed about in the shallow water,
startling the fish, Gee throwing back her head and
making little croaking noises as she voiced excitement
in her own tongue. Quite suddenly, she jumped to her
feet and ran toward a lilypad, laughing.
"Come now kiss come!" she cried, elated, spreading her
legs and lowering herself into an ungainly crouch.
Barker frowned quizzically at her suddenly inelegant
posture. There came a dull, distant thud and crump, a
sound like thunder.
The pond's surface quivered. Barker stared as Gee's
belly started pulsating, rippling with powerful,
muscular contractions. She sucked quick, gasping
breaths, her grunts rising to moans of orgasmic
pleasure. "KISS!" she screamed.
A glutinous grey mass of bubbly gel squirted from
between her legs. There seemed to be bucketloads of it,
dumping onto the plant and the water around, fist-sized
globules of jelly floating and bobbing.
"Agh!! Gee!" Barker almost squeaked, voice rising to
match the pitch of screams and yells rising from below.
"Now do kiss!" Gee panted, fire in her eyes as she
glared at his genitals. "Kiss on broughlegeem!"
"Ohh no no! No kiss on broogle-thingies!" Barker cried,
covering his suddenly-soft crotch protectively. Now he
realised his mistake; she had clearly confused 'kiss'
with something entirely different - something he had
thought a charming cross-cultural fluff until now.
"Kiss!" She made a grab for his groin; he fell, twisted
and dogpaddled away. "Kiss!" Her lips folded back from
small pointy teeth he couldn't recall seeing before. Now
he was trapped in a room with a broody female determined
to mate. Maybe he could hit the fire-alarm, even if the
room were half-full of water...He flogged about,
grabbing for sodden clothing, threshing and running from
the now flat-bellied Gee, and trying to avoid the
disgusting eggs, which had a tendency to stick to
anything they came in contact with.
Somebody somewhere, some blessed angel had hit an alarm
button for him. He could hear sirens converging on the
Exotix Bar. But would rescue arrive in time? Gee leapt
onto his body, teeth snapping toward his bollocks like
she intended to spread his milt via surgical
intervention.
"_FEAR NOT!_" boomed a massive, amplified voice
heroically as the doorhatch burst in.
Both Barker and Gee froze, staring up at the huge, caped
man who had spoken. He was as round as he was tall,
dressed in a glittering spandex leotard, with little
pink shorts and shiny rubber galoshes. Blazoned on his
breast was the golden five-pointed star of Grace Over
Destitution, the Most Fatuous Charitable Organisation in
the Known Universe. He had tanned skin, a fat moustache
and benevolent chipmunk cheekpouches, and a teeny little
gold-star shaped mask covering his eyes. Flanking him
was a beamish, plain-faced woman of advancing middle
age, gussied-up with a strawberry-flush beehive and
lashings of Avon. She looked like an extra from the
latest revival of that classic thespian masterpice, the
Rocky Horror Pitcher Plant Show.
"Gee!" Barker yelled.
"Who you?" Gee snapped irritably at the new arrivals.
"I am Captain Suck, champion of the Sacred Daikon Icon,
avatar of the Daikonetic Church of Sacred Opportunity!"
the man called Suck boomed grandly. "And this is my
eternally dedicated, beatifically divorced personal
executive assistant, Blow Girl! Lettuce spray for the
salvation of your assets in the eyes of Elron Cupboard!"
He scooped up Barker's jacket, which Blow Girl shook out
and fluffed up as if it were a quiz show prize. "Were
you the gentleman consuming a MochaChochaDaikoLatte
Drench in the downstairs establishment not half an hour
hencewith forsooth?"
"I, I, what if I was?" Barker whimpered. He was standing
naked in a pond full of mutant tapioca with a naked
woman ready to rip his balls off, and somebody wanted to
know his favourite _drink_?
"May you be spared the perdition of life's kitchen waste
disposal in favour of quiet putrefaction in the compost
bucket," Suck intoned. "Were you aware the
aforementioned aquavit was made with daikons not
cultivated in a licensed establishment?"
"I...what...no, I never saw it before in my life!"
Barker protested feebly. Blow Girl offered him a glare
that could have frozen a beesting cake, pointing with a
beautifully manicured fingernail at a brown mark on his
jacket lapel.
"Unclean! Unclean! Here is the evidence, Captain Suck!"
"Judgement is rendered, by those of us forever in His
Grip!" Suck roared triumphantly, brandishing something
that looked like a late 20th Century Terran Hoover, with
an extra-large bag and a mouth like a wrought-iron
fireplace. "This filth must be purified and brought to
Hygiene! Blow Girl - charge me up!"
"What?" asked Gee.
"Oh yes, Captain!" vowed Blow Girl in a voice tremulous
with desire. Kneeling before her boss, she tugged down
the front of his shorts. There was a mechanical click
and hiss. Blow Girl's halogen earrings lit up and
strobed, a synthetic voice counted down, and massive
turbine engines whizzed toward a screeching crescendo.
"Aw, gee!" Barker gasped, stomach turning.
"Cleanliness is next to GODliness!" Suck trumpeted
against the howl of the Hoover-Plus.
Gee screamed. Barker found himself airborne, seeing
nothing but an inrush of water, froth, protoplasm, carp,
maidenhair ferns and giant lotus petals. From faraway,
he thought he heard a thin female voice, deeper than
Gee's.
"Oh bugger, we're too late, Roxon! Poor bastard!"
Then he blacked out.
***
Proteus shoved his tentacles in his pockets and gazed
about at the destruction. Ambulance crews were still
pulling dancers from beneath the TreatMobile that had
crashed through the Live Hot Action window.
"Friggin' ramraid charities - I told Rocco to get
transparent titanium, cheapskate idiot wouldn't listen."
He privately suspected the whole thing was organised
secretly via Organ Donation Distribution By Organised
Discretion. More medics were working on a pair of
giggling vampires bombed with sacred water. Fortunately,
Perrier wasn't lethal to them, just turned their skin an
unsightly orange shade. Exotix was cleaner than he'd
ever seen it, the stains gone from the carpets in the
shadier corners, the ciggy butts gone, suds and shampoo
still evident in the shaggier pile.
"Definitely the work of arch-hygenicists," Lennie
observed unnecessarily. "They escaped when our
reinforcements couldn't get around Light O'Connor in the
Jeffries Tube." As he tried to cross a deep puddle,
Lennie couldn't help but flick his paws, which sent him
into a bizarre dance as he tried to keep them all off
the floor at once.
"Captain Suck, eh? Sector HQ had no proof of his
existence until now. This could be the worst outbreak of
disorder since the Bus Man attacks of 2145," Proteus
mused. "Lennie, cut that out you big pussy, it's only
water!"
"Laced with Big Daik's All-Purpose Cleansing Fluid!"
Lennie screwed up his nose.
"Get that, would you?"
"Yes, boss." Laying on her face, writhing, clothing
almost sucked from her body, Liberty O'Connor was
wheezing for air. Lennie reared on his back paws,
landing his forepaws squarely on her shoulderblades. The
chunk of mouthpiece she had been sucking on all night
popped out of her throat. Some executive stuck in
jetlock traffic had been having a VERY good time this
evening.
"You see the upstairs site yet?"
"Don't ask, boss, it was too horrible." Lennie gulped
down a hairball-ish sound. "I mean, I seen some messes
in me time...and I don't think even Big Daik brings off
Thhhrumbil eggs. I think there was a human being mixed
in there somewhere."
Proteus nodded reflectively, unmoved by the present
crisis. "Yes, I remember the Bus Man attacks, was fresh
out of Junior Leaguers at the time. When he went to
ground in the summer of '46 we were so glad of it that
we called it the Bus Man's Holiday."
Lennie grimaced and this time hoicked up a furball.
***
"Errrrrk!
"Nada, grody!"
"Euuuucchhh!"
The cadets as a class blinked and startled as the
Sensorium presentation ended. Lieutenant Commander
Retired Alec Kunthoffer swum into view as pupils re-
adjusted to classroom lighting. He strutted up and down
the rows, whacking his leg with the ancient riding-crop
he kept as an affectation, and screwed in his monocle
(another recidivist affectation).
"Well, giblets, what did we learn from that tasteful
little morsel?"
Every cadet knew it was better to offer even semi-
useless answers enthusiastically - it was a Kunthoffer
lecture, after all. Better than to wait and thus invite
him to home in like a 20th Century atomic warhead.
"Always know your target species' sexual proclivities!"
"Be aware of which gangs are operating the clubs you
visit!"
"MochaChochaDaikoLatte Drenches are revolting!"
"The Justice Legion are as useless as ever!"
Kunthoffer just puffed out his waxed white moustache and
shook his head, regardless of all the helpful and non-
helpful comments shouted his way. At last, as perplexed
silence fell, he turned with exaggerated gravity,
grasped his lectern in both hands, and said:
"I want you to remember this for the rest of your meagre
lives. The harder the suck, the bigger the blow!"
(end)
*****
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