I want to make a present of it for her. I’ve searched right around the world on the net and got no where.’ ‘What do they call it, do you know?�... she said. ‘She told me, but she was unsure of the authors name after all this time. She said was called ‘Sonnets’ by Peter Graves.’ ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘I know the one you mean.’ I brightened at this revelation. ‘But it’s not by Peter Graves, it’s by Peter James.’ ‘Oh that’s brilliant, I might be able to find a copy of it for her now.’ I said somewhat. By this time, I guess he could tell by the look on my face, I was a bit puzzled.“Look, let me show you something, it will explain itself. Sit right there.” he said, pointing to the sofa.He inserted a disc into the machine on the wall, above it were four huge flat screen TV’s arranged in a square shape. He walked over to the table, chose a remote then pressed play. I immediately recognized the footage as our past game against Miami. As he fast forward the film, I noticed each play was filmed. Mel told me that she used to masturbate every night while living with Lisa. And so did Lisa. Sometimes they were so aroused by hearing each other moan that they visited each other. A "visit" meant that they lay in the same bed and did it to themselves and each other. Lisa was always wet and horny, Mel told me. She recalled a weekend where both were off duty and did nothing else but to finger and lick each other from climax to climax. When Lisa brought a guy, Mel would shamelessly masturbate all. Now that he thought about it, he didn't expect him to."Sure I believe you," said Earl "Why shouldn't I? But it's some seriously weird shit." Tell me about it!" said Jackson, "There was this big yellow blobby thing with tentacles. I fuckin' pissed myself." Damn!" said Earl.Jackson was growing suspicious. It wasn't like Earl to believe him. Earl knew better than anybody that Jackson was full of shit. And besides, back when old lady McVicor was saying that space aliens had been taking pictures of.