"The key don't work either." I already know that," said the steaming salesman."Well you should get somebody from the servicer department over here pro...to, chief," said Joe."Joe," grimaced the salesman. "Where do you work?" Ah work in the service depart ... Oh, I get yuh. You want me ta fix her, right?" You're a genius," smirked the salesman. He led me away from the car. I kept looking over my shoulder. Joe had gone and retrieved a huge crowbar. I was afraid for the car but I probably shouldn't. Deep breath in and sloooowly exhale."She reached into a seemingly hidden compartment in the counter near the foot of the massage table. A small cart came out and on it were various bottles of gels and lotions.Melissa picked up one of the bottles with a sprayer on it and another with a squirt top. She sprayed a fine mist all over Patrick's body that seemed to make his skin glow. Patrick felt like his skin was being bathed in the finest and softest caress ever to have existed. His sense of touch. Here and there small fires burned. Twisted bits of metal ripped from the hull of the Cinnabar Hawk could be seen smoking amidst the devastation.Captain Jayson Vice was frankly amazed that he had survived the crash, let alone that his starship’s command module was largely intact. The majority of the ship was missing, of course - the aft fuel nacelle’s detonation mid-jump was what had shunted the ship back into truespace, taking much of the ship’s jump-drive with it, and sent the ship on its. Whilst growing up, I had learned to hate her. This had remained my general attitude until one summer’s afternoon. I had just returned home from school and was seated in our lobby, scrambling through my school bag in search of a cassette which I was sure that I’d left at school.In frustration I looked up and all around the room, desperately hoping to see it anywhere. I did not see my cassette, but what I did notice was my aunt’s bedroom door. The shape of her key hole, illuminated by bright.