"No, push those damn lips back and make my husband feel good. We're getting tired of waiting for you. I showed you how to do it, now get it done. It's... not that hard, wench. Shit, a fucking virgin could get this done, and I swear if you start crying again, I'll slap the tears right off your face."I let his wood out again and looked at her."What?"I slapped her myself and made her fall. "Shut the fuck up, you conniving harlot! If you say one more damn word, I'll rip off those two sacks of silicone. The Personalia were given that name by humans. The fact is, they did not use verbal identities among themselves, being machine intelligences inside spaceship bodies. They employed numerical designations to differentiate themselves. They took to using verbal nominal designations as a convenience for humans, to make it easier for conversations with humans with individual ships to go smoothly.They argue, in return, and with some justification, that we humans are just biological intelligences. When she was on the bus she took her normal seat again. Looking around the bus her mind could think of nothing but what was to come. She could tell that she was already wet from the anticipation of the days events. As the bus started to fill with people she reached her hand into her coat pocket and wrapped it around the remote control. Looking out of the window Emily pressed the first button putting the butterfly on to its lowest (yet surprisingly powerful) setting. She had to consciously hold. She was cute, but I wasn’t sure what I had stepped into. I drove back to the jail and parked by the “exit”. I walked in and asked for Beth Vanhausen. I remembered the name because I had a college friend with the same last name.I was told to take a seat. After a few minutes, she walked through a door with a jailer in tow. She stopped at a window and retrieved her personal effects, which consisted of her ID card, earrings and five one dollar bill and a cell phone. The jailer looked at me, called.