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Yesenia

Yesenia beats the gigolo until he falls down and money comes out. Her avatar runs around scooping it up.

“I don’t like some of the symbolism here,” says Yusuf.

“What, because it’s overt instead of covert?” Yesenia smirks. On the screen, her avatar jogs back toward town, phallus bouncing enormously before him. “You’d prefer I mask it as a sword or a big, fat, thick gun?”

“I was referring to the way all your interactions in the game involve penetration. Somehow it’s worse than, er, running them over.”

“It’s called Aggravated Sodomy 4. What did you expect?”

Yusuf frowns. “A satire.”

Yusuf

When Mori arrives at the station the desk sergeant makes a big show of finding her name on the twenty-page authorized translator list; by the time she gets back to Interrogation Two, Yusuf is fuming.

“About damn time!” he says. “So I’m right? They speak Pinter?”

“No,” says Mori, “Mamet. Not my specialty, but…”

“Are you actuallygonnafucking–” yells one of the perps.

“We’vebeentalking all morning and it’s like–” says the other.

“TRYING to spillthebeans–”

“‘Cause thesemotherfuckers–”

“FuckingMORNING they’ve been–”

“Theybeenfucking–”

“Areyougonnalisten? Huh?”

“Mother–”

“So?” says Yusuf. “Can you make sense of that?”

“I think they want some beans,” Mori frowns.

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