Cassandra’s breast pulsed inches from her eyes and fresh tears wetted her cheeks. Robert couldn’t blame her for the tears given the sight of her t...t. It was no longer neatly balled like the other, which was still constricted by the grip of the rubber band. Rather, her tortured tit resembled a link of sausage, at least at the base where the three wires compressed it cruelly. The rest of her breast swelled outward in a darkening mass, capped by something that looked more like a gumball than a. Pete remembered doing the same tasks last year with a beer and NPR. Having fun in bizarro world turned out OKPete had saved Corporate America, or at least the part he was paid to save, by 2:30. He collected the girls. They were having a break, too, crashed out all over the lobby. "This looks like the triage area for a cartoon factory explosion." They all started moaning as if in great pain. "Collect the corpses and debris. Grab a shower. Meet me in the kitchen for eats in thirty minutes. Dress. More

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