“Me.”Bernard crouched down beside me with microphone in hand. I instantly decided to be vague with my answers.“How long have you been a zoo?” ...he asked thrusting the mic into my face.“Ho Long is a Chinaman,” I replied. Laughter.“Ho Long,” Bernard played along, “asks how long since you mated with a dog?”“Tell Ho Long,” I answered, “If he was here and put his hand inside me he would feel doggie sperm still there. Just a few hours ago. And the sperm was from three dogs.”That got some yells and many. Thus, the leg was broken in two places, one above and one below the knee. Rolf's head hit the ground so hard that he was knocked unconscious. The cat turned as fast as it could to try to bite Rolf in the neck between his helm and his gorget (a neck shield). I managed to get there in time to lop off the beast's head with my claymore before it could reach Rolf for what surely would have been a killing bite.We had killed the two magical beasts, but Rolf's broken leg needed immediate attention. In. The letter ended with a brief but firm postscript that the museum in question wanted to avoid any notoriety that might come with the publication of this journal. Furthermore, with their delivery of the package to its rightful owner, the firm's obligation to any involved party was now ended.The letter raised far more questions than it answered. Who wrote the diary and when? Who donated it to the museum and how were they related to me? What museum would not want an original document from probably. "As his ejaculation ended, he began to fall down upon her, out of breath, picturing his sperm making its way deep into his own daughter's reluctant womb. Before his body could make further contact with hers scratched his chest and ribcage sharply, saying, "Jesus, no, get off of me you disgusting piece of shit!"He rolled off of her, his face gaping open like a landed fish, trying to catch his breath.He didn't know what the rest of the story could possibly be. His head swimming with thoughts,.