It was Paris in the the Spring, or so we

It was Paris in the the Spring, or so we pretended on the FSS Mandible in that deep space reminiscent of pesticide. Buddy kept going on about one one colon one one, until he thrash

-ed the elevator's speaker for its humdrum tunes. The daily cabin-to-hull commute felt vacuous. Buddy stowed away on the FSS Mandible to study music's effect on deep space veggies

and the downstream impact on the gazpacho industry. He knew there were millions just waiting to be made through supply-chain improvements, genetic enhancements, and above all

liposuction. He envisioned turning the world into one giant conveyor belt. That way he could give up walking completely. He'd had that dream forever.

Nothing would get in his way either. Due to his size, crowds parted easily for him. When he complained of his belt buckle riding up, his chauffeur took him on a ride up the Beltway

to the Big & Tall store, but when they arrived, he had trouble just getting out of the car. By the time he finally did, people were starting to stare. He told the chauffeur to just

Wait outside Karoll's Red Hanger Shop where the rooftop Heliport was used by Satan to hide his Hellicopter in camo colours. The chauffer was formerly employed by the King of Birds.

The fact was, & Satan knew this also, was that once you are employed by the King of Birds you are always employed by the King of Birds, whether he pays you or not. That the chauffe

-ur that the King of Birds had permanently hired was Satan was of no interest to him. "Drive me to heaven," ordered the King of Birds, but Satan was in no position to do that. So