“Hey, genfins! He’s awake. Chop, chop, go tend to my mate.” They keep on eating. I blast them with Lust-Breath and punch some Flirt-Touches into their bodies just for good measure. “Come on! You can stuff your faces later!” Three sexually frustrated groans are my reply. Wait for it… “Fucking hell, Scratch!” There it is. “What the hell was that for?” Ronak demands, cradling his package. And it’s, like, a large package. Like, if he went to a post office on the human realm, he’d have to pay extra to ship that thing. Not that they’d ship a penis. I don’t think. Right, focus.
