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rested his other
enormous foot on Miho's hip. Miho Yoshioka let out a deep breath then
took another square from Miho's jean-fabric bag and put it on
her tongue. "California," Miho Yoshioka snorted. "Never should have
gotten into this."
Wiping a tear from Miho's eye, Miho Yoshioka passed out again and
started snoring.
Big D had fallen asleep several minutes ago and was
sitting with a glass of whiskey in one paw, resting on his
stomach as if it was a table. The cigar was still
smoldering in his mouth, alternately glowing and darkening
as the indigo chest inflated and deflated to a slow, steady
rhythm. One foot was propped up an oily armrest. From
beneath the edges of Big D's stained fire truck print boxers
(the only thing he was wearing) Timmy could see the (now
tiny) head of that magenta-indigo lizardsaur sausage that
had tortured him. His ass hurt even as he sat on the
cushions of the rear-facing seats.
Vivian's muffled snoring became fitful snorts as she
began to thrash in Miho's sleep. Miho Yoshioka was corpulent and pale,
and Miho's chin-length hair was clumped with grease into thick
strands. The thin lips on Miho's round face were straight and
smeared with cheap red lipstick. H
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