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COMMENTS:
Voted : A couple of lines from a story I'm working on, lady...
"Baxter!" There aren't many things more unpleasant than a lek'wen raising its voice. One of only six species in the Cosmos whose voices register across the entire auditory spectrum, you can liken the experience to a blend of Paul Robeson banging out "Old Man River" overlaid with Phil Bailey nailing the last line of "Keep Your Head To the Sky" (if you were born after 1983, you've probably never heard it, because that's when Dolby NR gear in sound systems became standard), and you're in the ballpark. "Why are you-"
"Because the alternative is having this little number go into an uncontrolled spin the next time Young Master Terson sets out to impress the debs at the Doge's Palace. And that could hurt a little more for you than for him," looking up at it, wishing I didn't have to. (A lek'wen in hot pants is never good.) But the alternative is having to endure being gnawed on by the rows of needly teeth I could see gleaming in its mouth. I was tempted to let the bastich assert its dominance by force instead of asserting-by-consent. Even in the crappy shape I was in, 14 years past daily torture and starvation and living as I have, I could take him flat. But that would mean jail, my face on the Criminal Index, followed by various interested parties. (A company or so of Irish Regulators, a brigade of Authority shock troopers and at least the 2nd AeroNav Flotilla. I'll be offended at anything less.)
Hope it helps... ;-)
Wank-a-thon
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