The top-heavy target careened onto its right side. As it keeled over ignominiously like a battered brontosaurus, the built-in sensors recorded the mot...ion as being a hit from an anti-armour round and set off the pyrotechnics package mounted to the roof. The little vehicle was soon shooting flame skyward as thick black smoke roiled angrily."The Pinto isn't damaged itself," assured Stan. "We just have to attach new panels and a new pyrotechnics pannier. Still, this happens every time we try to use. I held the camera at arms length and began taking photos. Mesmiling. Me laughing. Me pulling faces. Over and over. The songdisappeared as quickly as it came and the talking resumed. This time Iwasn't so interested in what the ads had to say, I was looking at thepictures I had just took. Although I had stared at my image in the mirrora few times, looking at these pictures seem more real than the mirror.There she was, giggling, poking her tongue out. She looked like a verysexy and very happy. She takes her forefinger and coats it with some of her scotch. She rubs it from her neck to her breasts. There is a glistening trail across her skin.“Taste this.”He tongues along the path she left with the scotch. “God…. that feels so good.”She places his hand on the other breast. “My husband thought I wore this outfit for him. But I wore it to attract other men. I’m glad it’s you.”“You had this planned out?”“It was my idea to come here instead of another a regular club like Clyde’s. I knew if. . today's the day." I say, sadly.My name is Gene Taylor. I'm an orphan, who may be saying goodbye to my only friend."Yeah... ten more minutes." Samantha replied.Samantha Hunter. She's my best friend. My only friend. We grew up together. Just us against the world. Her ginger hair framed her pale face, as she looked at me blankly.It's one of those things everyone knows. When you know someone, you know how they're feeling, regardless of what they're showing."You're worried." I stated, looking.