I walk over and stand in front of her. Our eyes are locked, daring the other one to give in. “Ok, I’m going to go.” She pauses, still avoiding ...verting her gaze. “Fuck, I can’t! I can’t piss with you there!” …and that’s the moment. Her turn’s ended, and now it’s my move. “Stage fright?” I taunt. She just pouts. Perfect, now I’m winning. I lower my head slightly towards her and lessen my expression to more of a gentle guidance. “Let me help you.” And with that I let my own build-up release. . The fuel was helium which was produced by a specialized replicator and expelled under Honeybunch's control to transport me short distances through micro-gravity. Anytime I needed to shit, that same replicator would convert it into helium which could be stored as a future fuel for my asshole. How many people do you know who fart helium?At my special request, the third finger on my right hand was converted to spray a knock-out gas which would work against all known oxygen-breathers, and many of. More

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