Under the front seat." That oil rag?" I rolled my eyes. "I ain't going to ruin my pants, or wipe myself with an oil rag." There's the comforter," Mark...suggested."I uh ... I could do it maybe." Chris said, kind of shyly almost."What's that?" I looked at Chris with a smile. "Nah. I don't want to ruin your t-shirt." No, I mean ... Uh, I don't know. I could sort of clean you." He was smiling."How?" I was smiling too, but I didn't really understand."With my mouth. I mean, suck it out, you know." He. ”“Slightly fewer fucktons than you think.” Julie replied. She’d called Troy about the drone strike as soon as we’d heard. “Just for Leonard, Troy bought back at eight dollars, eighty-eight cents, and one-eighth.” She grinned.“But the house is ok, too?” Helen asked her. “You know I’ll pay for any damage.”“And you know we wouldn’t let you. Troy says there’s drone bits on the roof. He was going to try to pressure-hose them off when it stops raining. And that actually sounds kind of like a fun. More

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