This Was An Unpleasant Trend. I Didn’t

Well, That's Certainly... Adequate," I Told Him, Burying My Face In His Chest. I Knew Immediately I'd Picked The Wrong Word. "adequate?" He Took My Hand, Placed It On The Part In Question. It Immediately Began To Stir. He Moved My Hand On It, And I Obligingly Circled It With My Fingers. "this Is Adequate?" "maybe I Should Have Said It's A Gracious Plenty?" "a Gracious Plenty. I Like That," He Said.

Did You Ever Think That If You Told Me Where Bill's Hiding His Computer Program, I Would Give You Anything You Asked For?" - Eric, Club Dead.

Hoyt Was By Himself Right Under One Of The Portable Lights Rigged Up For The Occasion. He Had His Hands Thrust In His Pockets, And He Looked More Serious Than I’d Ever Seen Him. There Was Something Strange About The Sight, And After A Second I Figured Out Why. It Was One Of The Few Times I’d Ever Seen Hoyt Alone.

He Managed To Convey Indifference, Contempt, And Boredom In The One Word.

We Followed The Bondage Bobbsey Twins Across The Crowded Dance Floor. Those Leather Shorts Were An Adventure From Behind, Let Me Tell You. And The Pictures Of Elvis Decorating The Walls Were An Education, Too. It Wasn’t Often You Ran Into A Bondage/elvis/ Whorehouse-themed Vampire Club.