texts: Let me get up. </s> <s> You wanna get up? Well, you've gotta you see... well I want you to lick it. Go on... Lick it. Alex, gagging and coughing, licks the sole of his shoe. </s> <s> ... And again... Go on!!! Again! There's a good boy.
labels: And, O my brothers, would you believe your faithful friend and long suffering narrator pushed out his red yahzik a mile and a half to lick the grahzny, vonny boots. The horrible killing sickness had wooshed up and turned the like joy of battle into a feeling I was going to snuff it. Minister rises.