She flitted back to pencil dick and I flitted to a bottle of Patron. By the time I killed the bottle, she had disappeared with pencil dick and come ba...k alone. She had that look that I knew meant she had been doing some extracurricular bush activities, and pencil dick was probably walking funny. I was also mad hammered by this point. I slunk around the edge of the crowd. The bathroom, I needed the effing bathroom. I tripped over a giant bush on my way to the house and stumbled into a pink. I touched the screen onelast time. It was too late to stop the process now. My father's firstmodification was underway. 3Reconfigurations of high complexity often take up to four hours. I leftthe machine flashing and whirring to make a salad in the laboratorykitchen.I had loved salads even in my unmodified past, but my reshuffledmorphology adored them. In my masculine form, a "salad" consisted oflettuce, tomato, and onion. I now couldn't imagine a salad. More

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