. so basically I had read the bitch's diary. It made me ill, all of the poetic lovey-dovey crap that she wrote down about some guy named Bart. The gir... didn't have one ounce of talent in her body. Everything that I read screamed piss-poor, greeting card crap.The madder I got during the conversation the more active my imagination became. I watched Hillary as she talked, while in my mind I was breaking her cool calm and yanking her fucking nose out of her head. I wanted to make the bitch hurt. I. "The femininely vocal AI said to him before it disappeared from his helmets visor screen. Jackson sighed and disengaged the suit, pushing the chest panel open and climbing out of it. The man had minor bruises up and down his body, but everything else was sound. He pulled a chip out from inside the armor and slapped it into place behind his neck, the AI was pushing into his frame to do a full analysis. One thing about his alterations is that his body was filled with nano bytes, a type of. More

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