The meat room is cold, soaking and it stinks. One can almost smell the stench of a billion years of slaughtered animals in this place, and it is here we predetermine to test our prey. This floosie is a tough little number. It takes two of us to take the brush down in the hallway of the Armory, drag the brush into the consequent quarters, and tie up, hood and molest the brush cunt, tits and mouth. Once we exhaust and bind her, we drag the brush limp body to the basement and hang the brush on a meat hook to simmer for a while. We'll be back to clay pipe the brush off, cut the brush down and take meals the brush blarney like the hungry little consequent girl she is.
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