The other 4 clapped like banshees at Harry's announcement. He continued. "According to my sweet Fox's latest tweet, tweeted via mobile 37 minutes ago, we shall watch her 'play with her little pussy and see her getting dominated by a male AND female in her scene which is to be taking place at 8 o'clock. That's in 40 minutes. Hurry slaves. Time is ticking and we need to skurt to her Beverly Hills loft. We can make it in time if we use my illegal jet imported from Czechoslovakia."
.·.·.·.·.
Meanwhile the bulging Shields and Mike were making their way back to campus grounds reflecting on the many events that happened that day. Shields was secretly thankful for the massacre which took place and his likeliness of being put on paid leave due to his 70-year tenure at BSHS. Of course, he'd never tell this to his precious Michael. For what he cared most about, and what he truly longed to see more than anything else, was what was hiding inside Big Mike's pair of jeans. He wasn't sure what to say, but decided to let something roll off of his tongue. "Uh, so, they don't call you BIG Mike for nothing, going on??" Shields drooled, thirsting over Big Mike's pair of straight-cut LEE jeans. "Hrmph..." Big Mike groaned in protest, thinking he knew exactly what Shields was getting at — his very large bicep muscles. "I-uh-hm, live a primitive lifestyle. I don't have a phone, I don't watch TV, and I carve rocks for fun." Shields was quick to respond. "Yes yes but I was talking about something else . . ."
