He could feel the glaze building up on the surface of his eyes, shinny and thick like new donuts passing beneath the maternal spigot of icing. Picture a sludgy pre-Cambrian soup-ocean, except without the awful smell.

The flourescent lights squirmed on the back of his neck. Blue and green, such sexy colors. Vibrating and humming like a hotel bed. Sexxxy. Yeah. As the kids say, it's all good.

Arvo wants to jack, thought Arvo. The wrist of his mouse hand began to burn in anticipation.

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