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September 28, 2007

Jeff R.:The Price of a Weapon

It had been a long time since anyone called her Teardrop. On the streets, everything gets shortened, truncated, cut off.

Tear sold her body for cash. She kept off the drugs, away from the pimps. But
sometimes the beasts came after her. She ran, but sometimes they caught up.

Tired of the beatings, she went to a street doc. It turns out she had something other than sex left to sell; a good, transplant-ready eyeball fetched a bundle.

She spent it putting a laser cannon in the empty left socket. A few melted faces later, she had an effective deterrent.

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