Ken, didn't have too many clothes,as Beth she didn't have enough clothes. When she was Ken she could puton a blue shirt and khaki pants several times...and always feel that theoutfit would look the same no matter what. However, as Beth her mood,emotions, cycle, etc. could affect how she felt about the outfit. Oneweek she could look stunning, and the next week she would think it madeit her look fat.The other thing that she had learned about clothes and girls, it's acompetition. Girls judge. This trip was pushing the G5LR to its extreme – we were trying to go seven thousand miles without refueling. When they were satisfied they helped us with our baggage."If the winds at thirty thousand are not in our favor, we will have to divert to one of these three countries Spain, Italy or Morocco to refuel," Vance said."If it comes to that, Spain or Italy is the better choice - Morocco is not a fun place anymore, I hear," I replied.I knew that from reading the State Department daily security. It had two rooms and one bathroom. All these three lined together. I took the first room and my sister took the second. My dad managed to find a food delivery service so that we can focus on our studies only and not spend time on cooking. After we shifted to our new house, dad left us.I was very happy that I was with my sister. But, deep down I knew that this means I can’t bring prostitutes anymore. Anyways, I was happy as we were very close. We shared all of our secrets. I knew that she was a. The more threads seemed to come together, the more others unraveled.Just then a filthy form appeared in front of Ken."You ok, buddy?" slurred a voice. The smell of the man was of sweat, bad wine, and urine all mixed into a horrible odor.Ken dragged himself to his feet."I'm fine," Ken croaked."Suit yourself," answer the man as he shuffled on down the street.Just then, Ken noted a heavy shape in his coat pocket... his pistol.Revenge, he thought. There must be a way to find truth and to exact.