Avon Gale

“Uh, no thanks. Remember how mad I got about the spitting?”

“Right. You want ’em to swallow.” Murph winked.

“Who doesn’t?” said Hux, and they all raised their cans of beer.

“Why are we doing it again, then?”

“You like the half-dressed girls in the hot tub at the end,” Murph offered helpfully.

“You want to say something mean, huh. So I’ll hate you.”

Laurent nodded desperately.

“Stop talking,” Isaac said, and Laurent felt the relief at the simple instruction and went back to his magazine.