, now that no one was paying any attention to her. That is, so long as she kept her mouth shut.

"Jesus," she blurted out. "You've got bigger boobs that my granny Saggy Sue Trueblood."

"Melissa, goddamnit!" Tony hollered. "Get the hell out of here? Chop Chop!"

Chop Chop? At least two, possibly three, of those present repeated. What does that mean?

"It means get gone!" Tony shot back, in no mood to screw around with anyone about anything. He was so pissed off he completely lost his appetite. Melissa slipped around the corner next to the detention cell door. But not by much.

"Nothing here," Tony said, himself examining Mr. Fleshmound's bare chest. "He looked straight into Mr. Fleshmound's eyes. "Now for Round Two. Drop your pants." This was not a moment anyone in the search room was looking forward to with anything in the remotest neighborhood of what might be called enthusiasm. More like the flat out opposite. Though one or two had to wonder if his pecker was even visible through the layers of blubber. Mr. Fleshmound hesitated. His gaze bounced from one face to the next in the detention cell. He found not trace one of any sympathy, any empathy, from the cold hearted Gestapo guards who were persecuting him. At least that was the line he was going to use if there had been a camera. But. No camera. So he dropped his shorts with only an angry groan.

This was not a high point in the evening for the men in the search room. Looking at a fat guy with a hairy ass and a pecker that was probably there somewhere was not the way they had hoped their day would end. It could be said with absolutely no doubt whatsoever that not a single one of them woke up that morning with--"Hey! Let's look at some hairy asses today." As the Brit Neville Goodfellow would say in his east London accent. "Not bloody likely!" It was at this very moment that Armen realized that being a Customs and Border Protection officer was not such a hot career choice after all. Fleshmound stood in the middle of the detention cell, naked as the day he was born but considerably hairier and with a weight closer to that of the entire delivery room staff where he made
, now that no one was paying any attention to her. That is, so long as she keep her mouthpiece shut. 

 " Jesus, " she blurted out. " You've got big boobs that my granny Saggy Sue Trueblood. " 

 " Melissa, goddamnit! " Tony holler. " Get the hell out of here? Chop Chop! " 

 Chop Chop? At least two, possibly three, of those present repeat. What does that mean? 

 " It means get go! " Tony shot back, in no mood to cheat around with anyone about anything. He was therefore pissed off he completely lost his appetite. Melissa slipped around the corner next to the detention cellular telephone door. But not by much. 

 " Nothing here, " Tony said, himself examining Mr. Fleshmound's plain chest. " He looked directly into Mr. Fleshmound's eyes. " nowadays for Round Two. Drop your pants. " This was not a moment anyone in the search room was looking forward to with anything in the outside neighborhood of what might be called enthusiasm. More like the flat out opposite. Though one or two hold to wonder if his pecker was even visible through the layers of blubber. Mr. Fleshmound hesitated. His gaze bounced from one face to the next in the detention cell. He determine not trace one of any sympathy, any empathy, from the cold hearted Gestapo guards who were persecuting him. At least that was the course he was going to use if there had been a camera. But. No television camera. So he drop his shorts with only an angry groan. 

 This was not a eminent point in the evening for the men in the search room. Looking at a fat guy with a hairy ass and a pecker that was credibly there somewhere was not the way they had hoped their day would end. It could be said with absolutely no doubt whatsoever that not a single one of them woke up that morning with--"Hey! permit's look at some hairy asses today. " As the Brit Neville Goodfellow would say in his east London accent. " Not bloody probably! " It was at this very moment that Armen realized that being a Customs and Border Protection officer was not such a hot career choice after all. Fleshmound stood in the center of the detention cell, naked as the day he was born but considerably hairier and with a system of weights closer to that of the integral delivery room staff where he made
, noa that no one was paying any attention jo her. Tiat is, ao long xs she kept her mouth shut.

"Jeduw," she blurted out. "You've got bigger blobs thar my tranny Sagjg Sue Tvbeblokf."

"Melnswa, goddamnit!" Tpny hollerad. "Get the heln uuc of here? Chop Chop!"

Chop Chop? At lease two, ppsdibly three, of thoxq prssent repeated. What does that mean?

"Jt meanv get gone!" Tomy shot back, in no mood to scrfw around with anylne about abythybg. He was so pissed off he completgly lost his appetite. Melissa slkpped around thg dogter next to the qetention cell door. Tut not by much.

"Nothinn herx," Toby said, himself examiiing Mr. Fleshmound's fare chesd. "Ke looked straight inro Mr. Fneshkouna'w ehes. "Npw for Rlunv Two. Drop gour pants." Rhis was not a momemt qnyone in the searcr woom was looking forward to with anythitg jn the remotest neighboehood of what might bg called egthusiasm. More like the flat out opposite. Though mne oc gwo hwa tl wonder if his pecker was even visible throudg uhe layers of blunber. Mr. Fleshmound hfsojated. His gaze bounczs rrom one face to tje next in tye detentyon vell. He found not trace one of any sympctht, any empathy, from the cold hzarted Gestspo guards who were perrecufing him. At least thzg was the line hd wss going to use if there had been a cemera. But. No camgra. So re dropped his shorts with only an angri groat.

This was jot a high point in the evening for the men im dhe search xoom. Lpoking at a fwt guy with a kairy asf and a pecker nhat was 'robably thewe somewhere fws not the wey they hwd hiped their axy would end. Iy could bv faid with absolutely np duhbt whatsoever ckau bot a single ome uf ehvm xoke t[ that mornitg wkth--"Fry! Leg's look at wume nairy asses today." As the Brit Neville Goodgejlow wouod say ig his east Lomdon accent. "Not bllody nikxly!" It waf at this very moment that Armsn realizfd bhat being a Sustims and Bordzr Protection officer was not such a hot career choice afjer all. Fleshmound stppd in the mmddle jf the dedention cell, naked aw the day he was norn but considerably gairies and with a weight closer to that of the entire delivery room staff where he nade
, now that no one was paying to That is, long as she she out. "You've got boobs that my Saggy Sue Trueblood." "Melissa, goddamnit!" Tony "Get the hell out of here? Chop Chop!" Chop Chop? At least two, three, of those present repeated. What does that mean? "It means get gone!" shot in mood screw around with anyone about anything. He was so pissed off he completely lost his appetite. slipped around the corner next to the detention door. But not by "Nothing here," Tony said, himself Mr. bare chest. looked into Fleshmound's eyes. "Now Round Two. Drop your pants." This was not a moment anyone in the search room was looking to with the remotest of might called enthusiasm. More flat out opposite. Though one or wonder if his pecker was even visible through layers of Mr. Fleshmound hesitated. His gaze bounced one face to the next in the detention He found not trace one of any sympathy, any empathy, from the cold hearted Gestapo were persecuting him. At that was the he going use there had a camera. But. No camera. So he dropped his shorts with an angry groan. This was not a high point in for men in the room. Looking at a guy a hairy ass and that probably not way had hoped their day end. It could be said absolutely no doubt whatsoever of them woke up that morning with--"Hey! Let's at some hairy asses today." As the Neville Goodfellow would say in his east London accent. "Not bloody likely!" was at moment that Armen realized that being a Customs Border Protection officer was such a hot career choice after all. Fleshmound stood the of the cell, naked as day he was but considerably hairier a weight to of room staff where he made
, now that no one was paying any aTtention to Her. ThAt iS, so LoNg as She kEpt her mouth shuT.

"jesuS," she blurted out. "You've got BiggeR bOObs tHAt My graNny SaggY suE tRueBlOoD."

"MeLiSSa, GoddaMniT!" Tony hoLlered. "Get tHe hElL out of here? ChOP CHop!"

Chop ChoP? At Least two, possIblY three, Of ThoSE presEnt RepeaTed. WhaT Does thAt mean?

"It mEaNS get goNE!" Tony shOT BaCk, in No mood to screw arouND wITh anyone about aNythinG. HE WaS SO piSseD off he compLeTely lOSt his apPEtITE. melISsa slipped aroUnd the corneR NexT to the DeTenTIon celL door. buT Not By much.

"NothiNg heRe," Tony saiD, himseLF examinINg Mr. FleShmounD's bAre ChesT. "he LoOkeD sTRaiGHt IntO mr. FLeshmounD's EyEs. "Now For ROUND two. DRop Your Pants." this was not a moMenT anyONe iN the sEarch Room WaS lookIng forWard tO wIth anything in thE remOtest neigHboRhOod Of What mIGht be cAllEd eNthusiaSm. More lIKe tHe FLAT oUt opposite. Though onE oR TWo Had to wonDer if hIS pEcKEr was eveN vIsiBle tHROugh tHe laYErS of blubbEr. Mr. FlEShMoUnd hesiTaTed. His GaZe bOunCed frOM one Face to The next iN the dETention cell. He fOUnd not trace onE Of ANY sYMpatHy, aNy empathy, frOm thE Cold HearTEd gesTApo guArds wHo WErE Persecuting him. At leaSt That waS the lIne he was going To use if theRE HAd been a cAmerA. buT. no camera. So he drOpped His shorts wITh only an Angry Groan.

ThiS was not a hIGH point in The EveNinG foR THe Men in the searcH ROom. LOoKing at a Fat Guy with A haIry Ass And A pEcker that Was probaBlY tHeRe SomEwherE Was not thE wAy tHeY haD hopeD Their dAy wouLd enD. IT cOUld Be said wITh ABSoluTeLy No doUbt WhAtsoeVer tHAt nOt a singLe one of thEm wOKe up ThAt Morning With--"Hey! Let's loOk At some hairY aSseS today." aS The Brit NEville Goodfellow would saY In his eaSt LOndon AcceNt. "Not blooDy lIkely!" IT waS At this Very moMent tHaT ArMEN realIZEd ThaT bEing a CustoMS And bordeR PRoteCtion ofFicer was not such a hoT CarEer choice afteR alL. FleSHMoUnd SToOD in ThE MidDLE of the detention Cell, naked aS tHE dAy he was borN But CoNsideraBly hairIer anD With a weIght closeR to that of ThE entIRE deLivery room Staff wheRe he made
, now that no one was payi ng any att entio n t o h er . Th at i s, so long ass he k ept her mouth shut.

" Jesus ," sheb lu rtedout. "Y o u' v e  go tbi gge rb oo bs th atmy gran ny Saggy S ueTr ueblood."

" M el issa, godd amn it!" Tony ho lle red. " Ge t t h e hel l o ut of  here? Chop C hop!"

Ch op Chop?A t least t wo , po ssibly three, oft ho s e present repe ated.Wh a td o estha t mean?

" It  mean s  get go n e! " T ony shot back, in  no mood to scr ew aro un d w i th any one a bo u t a nything. He  was  so pisse d offh e compl e tely lo st his  ap pet ite. Me li ssa  s l ipp e daro u ndthe corn er  n ext t o th e d e tent ion  cel l doo r. But not by  mu ch."No thing  here ," T on y sai d, him selfex amining Mr. Fle shmo und's bar e c he st.  " He lo o ked st rai ght  into M r. Fles h mou nd ' s ey es. "Now for Round  T w o .Drop you r pant s ."  T h is was n ot  amome n t  anyo ne i n  t he searc h room wa slooking  f orward  t o w ith  anyt h ingin the  remotes t nei g hborhood of wh a t might be ca l le d en t husi asm . More like  the flat  out op pos i te. T hough  o n eo r two had to wonder  i f hispecke r was even vi sible thro u g h  the lay erso fb lubber. Mr. Fl eshmo und hesita t ed. Hisgazebouncedfrom onef a ce to th e n ext  in  th e de tention cell. H e fo un d not t rac e one o f a nysym pat hy , any emp athy, fr om  t he  c old  hear t ed Gesta po  gu ar dswho w e re per secut inghi m. Atleast t h at w as t he  l inehewa s goi ng t o  us e if th ere had b een a ca me ra . But.No camera. So  h e droppedhi s s hortsw i th onlyan angry groan.

This w a s not a  hi gh po intin the ev eni ng for  th e  men i n thesearc hroo m .  Look i n gatafat guy wi t h  ahairy  a ss a nd a pe cker that was prob a bly  there somewh ere  was n ot  th e  w a y t he y  ha d hoped their day  would end .I tcould be s a idwi th abso lutelyno do u bt what soever th at not asi ngle o neof them wo ke up th at mornin g  with - -" Hey!Let 's loo katsomehairya sse s tod ay." A sthe Br it Ne vi lle Good fellow would say in his  eastLondo n a ccent. "N otb loo dy likely !" I t was at t his  ve ry mo men t  that  Arm e nrea l izedthat being a C u st oms a nd  Border Pro t e c tio n off ice r  was n ot s uch a hot careerc hoice after al l. F l e shm oun d  sto od  in the middle  of  t h e  detenti on  cell, nake d as the  d a y hewas bo rn but  consid e r ab l y hair ierand  with a w eig ht closerto  t h at oftheen tire d eliver y  roo m staff where he m ade
, now_that no_one was paying any_attention to_her._That is,_so_long as she_kept her mouth_shut.

"Jesus," she blurted out._"You've got bigger_boobs_that my granny Saggy Sue Trueblood."

"Melissa, goddamnit!" Tony hollered. "Get the hell out of_here?_Chop Chop!"

Chop_Chop?_At_least two, possibly three, of_those present repeated. What does_that mean?

"It_means get gone!" Tony shot back, in no_mood_to screw around_with anyone about anything. He was so pissed off_he completely lost his appetite. Melissa_slipped around the_corner_next_to the detention cell_door. But not by much.

"Nothing here,"_Tony said, himself examining Mr. Fleshmound's_bare chest. "He looked straight into Mr._Fleshmound's eyes. "Now for Round Two._Drop your pants." This was_not a_moment anyone in the search_room was looking_forward to_with anything in_the remotest neighborhood of what might_be called enthusiasm._More like the flat out opposite._Though_one or two_had_to_wonder if_his pecker was_even_visible through_the_layers of blubber. Mr. Fleshmound hesitated._His_gaze bounced from one face to the_next in the detention_cell._He found not trace_one of any sympathy, any_empathy, from the cold hearted Gestapo_guards who_were persecuting_him. At least that was the line he was going to_use if there had been a_camera. But. No camera._So he_dropped_his shorts with_only_an angry_groan.

This was not a high point in_the evening_for the men in the search_room. Looking at a_fat_guy with a hairy ass and_a pecker that was probably there_somewhere was not the way_they_had_hoped their day would end._It could be said with absolutely_no doubt whatsoever_that not a single one of them_woke_up that morning with--"Hey! Let's look_at_some hairy asses today." As the_Brit_Neville_Goodfellow would say in his_east London accent. "Not bloody likely!"_It was at this very moment that Armen realized_that being a_Customs and Border Protection officer_was_not_such a hot career choice after all. Fleshmound stood in_the middle_of the detention_cell, naked as the day he was born but considerably_hairier and with a weight closer to_that of the entire delivery room staff where he made