Issue #3: Pages 7 & 8

to go to the public school anyway. Butt our parents made us go there. So shutup, shutup, SHUTUP! MUTILATOR Fist, I ask him if he's ready. He nods so I disconnect is ventilator, then pull the sheet, bringing his entire withered body to the edge of the bed. I put on a pair of late gloves, then roll him onto his side. His ass doesn't smell like an ass, it smells like a rank armpit. I put a drop of KY Jelly on my glove and get to work. He can't feel my finger. He can't feel anything below his neck.