If given the choice, Rex Strex Sexton would always select a corner table. A panoramic view of his surroundings, however minor to some, could prove to be the difference between life and death. Or capture. Such was the case today, as he scanned the innards of<i>Comatose Binary</i>from his darkened booth<i>.</i>The watering hole was a popular hangout amongst local low-lifes, professional scalawags, and common ne'er-do-wells. Naturally, R2S viewed himself as above them all, in his humble opinion. He was also programmed that way, though never in a superior, upper-class manner of thinking.<br/><br/>Nursing his fifth<i>Raging Pink Kamikaze</i>, Rex simply worshiped his alcoholic drinks. Luckily for him, his programmers calibrated him to enjoy the effects, but never get truly shit-faced or ever encounter sickness or hangovers. Quadruple win, as far as he was concerned.<br/><br/>Sneakily, an old acquaintance, Yabba Con Carne, slid into the booth opposite him. Rex woulda been bleeding out from a deep throat slash had she fancied ill intentions. So much for that so-called advantageous corner location. “Hello, Sexy Rexy,” she cooed.<br/><br/>“You know I fuckin’ hate that name, Yabba,” he snapped.<br/><br/>“Of course, I know. Which is why I’ll forever and ever call you that, Sexy Rexy,” she haughtily replied.<br/><br/>Rex could only stare at her, powerless to do anything about what she chose to call him. “So what the fuck you want?” he annoyingly asked.<br/><br/>“That’s so like you, Sexy Rexy, and I’m happy to know you haven’t changed one bit,” Yabba said with a crooked smile. “Always to the point. No foreplay, hmm?” She winked at him, stirring the pot even more<br/><br/>Seething while waiting a few more seconds, he finally exclaimed, “I’m fuckin’ waiting!”<br/><br/>“Very well, my foul-mouthed, impatient friend,” she stated. “Word is that your cum tastes like strawberry and watermelon. Or might that be strawmelon? Perhaps even waterberry?” Her grin was disturbing at best.<br/><br/>“What?!” Rex retorted, clearly agitated. Only one person knew about that. Did Anna B. Nanna send out a fucking global text? he mentally wondered. “How the fuck do you know that?”<br/><br/>“Never mind,” Yabba responded. “Is it true?”<br/><br/>Draining the remainder of his<i>Raging Pink Kamikaze</i>, he signaled to a passing three-legged waitress. “Yeah, it’s true. Why you wanna know?”<br/><br/>“Cuz I’d like a taste, Sexy Rexy,” she said.<br/><br/>“Oh yeah? What’s in it for me?” he asked.<br/><br/>“Well, I’m glad you asked,” she answered. “You would be the lucky recipient of Three Tweaks For Three Tits. Or, what I now fondly call, Tee-Tee 4 Tee-Tee.” It was true. Yabba Con Carne had three breasts. Two were right above the third, like an inverted pyramid. While he considered her offer, his sixth cocktail was delivered.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, all eyes (even those with four or more of the orbs) turned in unison toward the establishment’s front door. A woman, and a striking one at that, surged inside, glancing around with the unmistakable appearance of desperation on her face. Rex’s brow furrowed, after finally noticing her unusual attire. Was that a wedding dress? he thought, while swigging his drink. Did she just jilt someone or was a wedding dress considered fashionable these days?<br/><br/>About to turn and address Yabba, the mystery non-bride announced rather emphatically, “I need help! Ten thousand space credits to anyone that gets me to Flibbertigibbet!” Her number got his attention, not so much her destination.<br/><br/>Chugging the rest of his drink, Rex slammed the tumbler with only ice in it on the table and nodded at his booth companion. “I’ll take a rain check on that, Yabba. Until next time,” he said with a wink. She frowned, having been denied that fruity cum, but said nothing. On the way to the woman in white, he flipped a few coins toward his waitress, who deftly caught them all in an empty glass on her tray, while also smiling at him in gratitude.<br/><br/>Now standing next to the pseudo bride, who happened to be looking elsewhere, Rex stated, “C’mon, doll face, I’m your, uh, man. Flibbertigibbet it is then.”