The Death of Sapphire

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I kind of vaguely remember taking the pills Jenny McCarthy gave me, and feeling calm and, well, productive.  God bless these things.  I recommend them to anybody.  They are all stamped "PLACEBO."

“So what's the deal with you 'recalling' Sapphire,” I ask bluntly. “Are you getting your troops together to finally invade this dump?”

RDO, gleaming teeth over Skype, countered.

”Let's just say having one of our best examples of technological innovation on a stripper pole diminishes our reputation,” he says. "We heard you were hurt in a fire where you work. How are you?”

“I'll be fine when my eyebrows grow back. But the plant is shut down. I have three weeks off until it's repaired.” I sigh. “This is nothing like when you rescued me on that island and I had eaten the four other survivors.”

”You were only stranded for nine hours."

“Those noble souls weren't getting any fatter,” I says. “So what are you going to do with Sapphire?”

”Scrap her for parts, and melt down what's left for an ultra-secret military invasion about to take place, that I'm not at liberty to talk about. At the moment. Right now.”

“Do you think she will let me have her stereo?”