It was in fact well after sunrise when Chip called them again. He had napped in the room at the back of the bar where his equipment was set up, but he...had kept track of the signal by checking on it every so often. His news was better than those in the van expected.“WHAT?” Gunther snarled into the cell phone when it woke him.“Wakey ... wakey!” Chip told him in a bright voice, though he was as tired as they were. “It’s time to get back to the search for the bitch. Go and find some breakfast first. She stood a head shorter than me, with a stereotypical hourglass figure, and a strict exercise regime she adhered to meant her breasts had so far retained their youthful perkiness. There wasn't much of an ass there, but plenty to fill out a pair of jeans and look a million bucks. But I digress. Our story starts in the summer holidays the year after I finished my first year at college. I was home for the summer as a fresh-faced, idealistic 19 year old, with the world as my oyster. I had arranged. I think it’s Mother Nature herself trying to prevent little racists from being born. White people love to commit genocide. Hitler was White. Remember? I mean, seriously. Has a Black person ever committed genocide? Wiping out an entire people? An entire group of genetically related human beings? Doubtful. Oh, for those of you who are going to mention Sudan and Darfur, mass killings don’t equal genocide. To commit genocide, you have to operate on a somewhat grander scale. Think Hitler and the. They were then each made to write a letter of apology to the woman. After Mr. Watkins read our completed letters, one of the boys, Jonathan, as his letter didn’t pass muster and he had to write it again and received a further six cane strokes after a few weeks he recovered from the short period of not obsessing and was soon returned to normal, if anything, feeling the cane across his own bottom and witnessing his male classmates getting the same punishment had now actually strengthened his.