Czarissa Haimecc Yon-Casheuphe has emerged from the shelters unharmed by stellar radiation. She has gone undetected. She approaches wearing sanguinist cape, hip shunt, and lace leggings with memory device inserts.
Tensor: I bite my digits to silence my wails of desire.
Pinion-Runnel: The fluff is pronounced. It heightens the desire.
Tensor: I do not believe my desire could be more heightened.
Pinion-Runnel: Incorrect. We must not succumb to the weakness of biology. Resist the urge to assert your dominion.
Tensor: The females resist authority.
Pinion-Runnel: They are changing. The stone is amok.
Tensor: I yearn for the swim.
"Really, Holmes!" I dropped into my seat, shocked. "You are remarkably tall! What are you, six foot six? Six foot eight?"
As the 19th century diver approaches a giant clam, a flash of brilliant golden light flares from within the shell. I emerge in a swirl of bubbles and do the timeless universal underwater hand signals for the following: ZODIAC KILLER, KKK, BLOOD OF YOUTH
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