"It's tight in the corners, Jack. A fine ride." Glad you liked it, Grizz," Jack said, beaming his salesman's smile. "Whythis baby has everything. It e...en tosses salad."That caught Grizzly's attention."Now wait, dixie," Stacey said. "What's this about tossing salad? Was thisdamn conjugal visit catered?" No, Mrs. Jackson," I said, blushing behind my mask. "Tossing salad is aprison term for...uhm...eating ass." Oh, my heavens!" she gasped. "I had no idea!" To make the act more...palatable...the. I had never had a dream like this before, but maybe itwas possible. I tried to pinch myself, but no difference.It occurred to me that if I wasn't dreaming, I was in trouble. Could Itell anyone I wasn't this girl? Who would believe me? And even if by somemiracle someone believed me, what could they do? I somehow doubt anybodyknows how to do a soul transplant.For that matter, I wasn't sure where my real body was. If my soul was inher body, was she in mine? Or is my body in the morgue?I decided I. And those can be pretty good because guys seem to like college or High School girls. We’re all eighteen or older, of course, but I can dress up to look younger.”“Interesting. Thanks.”I didn’t want to push it. I’d ask another question when I saw her again.Stacey walked off, and the guy gave me the bag, “Kid, you’re way too young for this place, but you have good taste. She’ll blow your mind. And that’s not all.”I laughed, “Well, as I told her, I have a bunch of girlfriends and I’ve done stuff. A paved street curved up from the town’s main square. After a few hundred feet the houses on both sides ended, and the street, getting steeper, became a path. On the left side, if you walked up, carved into the mountain, was a row of caves, one next to the other — underground stalls that had been shops where on sunny days a steady stream of cheerfully jostling, laughing, shouting visitors, but also more quiet townspeople on a stroll up to the castle gardens, had bought refreshments, candies,.