At the exhibition we were standing by an incomprehensible piece of alleged sculpture. It was dull, with bits of wood, some metal and an egg. Yes, I di... say an egg. ‘This, my stockinged friend, is called “Reflective Mood.” Now, to my untutored eye it has rather the appearance of something my sister Cassandra….’ ‘The second “a” like the ahhhh I emitted a little earier?’ ‘Your memory is a constant delight to me.’ She grinned and her hand twanged a suspender through the blue silk of my frock. ‘It. She’d spent her life being underestimated. With a carefully placed, lightening fast kick in that special place all men held in highest regards, she earned her freedom. ‘I told you I don’t know where in the hell he is. If I knew, I wouldn’t need your help. I’d kill him myself,’ she gritted, stifling the grin as Michael cupped his private parts and glared up at her from the sidewalk. She rolled her eyes at Michael. Whimpering like a kicked pup, his eyes round with pain. Men and their gonads, when. More

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