‘How’d you deal with that shit being in there?’ I ask, confused. ‘Never had a chance to get it out,’ she explains with a sigh. ‘No clean s...rfaces to disassemble the arm on – let alone a sterile enough environment for me to remove the arm in the first place. And besides, most of the gears and shit are aesthetic – the functional parts are mostly electronic, and not analog. So in reality, it would usually just be a solid arm of metal, inlaid with synthetic nerves and muscles. But I decided to get. She hadn’t practiced much so she was still a little wobbly but wow, she did look like a lady-slut going out for a very good time. We had a few more drinks. My cell phone rang it was a girl friend of mine. I spoke for a few minutes and hung up. Z was upset that I took the call and a fight ensued. To end the fight I just dozed off. When I woke up it was 9:15 p.m. She was sitting across the room and clearly pouting. My attempt at conversation was met with a. More

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