“Penis . . . Stone,” he enunciates, trying very hard. Well, there you have it, folks: he’s trying to communicate that he’s currently erect. His penis is hard as stone. That doesn’t make things uncomfortable at all. “My God,” I whisper to Dakota. “They are forward here.” Turning back to him, I say, “Congratulations on your erection, sir. Quite a feat to accomplish in the middle of a city.” I give him a solid fist shake. Solidarity. “Keep up the good work—” “The Castration Stone.” Dakota has spoken up . . . finally, despite being hunched over and completely out of it, thanks to the flight. “He’s
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