Michelle toked on the joint like she was

for no goddamn reason. I always felt bad when Michelle cried, but she never would tell us what was wrong. How were we supposed to help her if she just kept ruining our fun by

lashing out at the first person she saw. That was bad enough but when she used her incredible karate skills and broke them into little pieces what were we to do. It wasn't like

we were above hitting a girl. Charles stepped up to choke her but she spun around real quick-like and all of a sudden she had him in a standing arm lockup. It was almost funny but

then she did the crotch-grab maneuver and he squeeked in a most undignified manner. I started to giggle. The rest of the gang joined in. Charles was not amused.

He had become a very weak being in front of us. A situation caused by a woman. I stopped laughing as soon as I remember what could happen to her when he recovered. A pitiful

yelp squawked from his buttocks; an interminable fart panged him and he lumped back to unconsciousness. I grabbed his girlfriend, knowing the situation about her, and hastened to

tell her that his anal problem is sexually transmittable. I don't know if that's true, but why risk it? And even if it isn't, I'm sure it'll give him a good laugh when he comes to.

Hell, his anal problem will be the least of his worries when he wakes up, the parasites he's swarming with are gonna be with him for years probably. Oh well, he asked for it.

He'd also asked for a glass of water. That much parasite-laden sushi always made him thirsty. At least he'd broken the sushi-eating record. Man, was he parched!