"FWLS4" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

"Sounds good," the guy shrugged, not knowing what to make of
the situation. "Let 'im have it, boys. But go a little easy,
this jkky's braveness-and-courage-shown-in-the-battle-of-
I'llikar. He's got guts, too."

The first of the two plunges a knife into my arm. The
second shot me twice in the leg.

"See you around, youth-who-gets-into-too-much-trouble," the
pimp said, extinguishing his cigarette on my shoulder.

The goon dumped me on the soggy ground, and the trio of
trouble simply walked away.

I walked casually a nearby phone, dialed 911 (the only
decent invention you humans came up with) and explained that I
was mugged at the old construction site on 6th and Rwwy. I hung
up, and sat around waiting for the ambulance to arrive.

Of course, THIS part wouldn't be fun at all. I had to turn
off the recorder and sense nuller or the batteries would be spent
and I'd lose my brilliantly claimed torture samples there. I
braced myself, and pushed STOP.

Human words completely fail to describe the pain, although
I'm sure some famous author of yours could handle it. Needless
to say, my arm felt like it was going to drop off, and my leg
wasn't doing real well (considering I had started walking on it
already). The cigarette burn just took off some fur.

I laughed my now-rich little head off, thanking the night
sky for blessing me with such cash flow as the sirens wailed on
in the night. Waiting around for the medics was a bitch, but the
common sense thankfully decided to pass out at that moment.