Chapter Text
At the explosive conclusion of Redline, all the racers couldn’t help but look up in awe at the dazzling rainbow of colors glittering above them. It was like an Aurora of pure energy- a strangely poignant moment of serenity after an adrenaline-pumping, fuel-injected, no-holds-barred deathrace through the hostile planet of Roboworld. Braving orbital defense cannons, transforming crow fighters, sand bikes, mecha jets, kaiju bioweapons and the elite robopolice, all of the Redline racers were left exhausted outside their wrecked vehicles following the climactic finish between Sweet JP, Cherryboy Hunter Sonashee, and Metalhead. Though the racers themselves all survived Funky Boy’s blast, they certainly didn’t emerge unscratched. Not a single one of their vehicles escaped the orgy of colorful destruction that swept the finish line.
In that moment of quiet, everyone looked up to JP and Sonashee floating serenely in the anti-gravity field created by the sudden release of Steamlight energy as they literally exploded across the finish line. Everyone across the galaxy cheered them on, from the alien refugees on EUЯPSS to the stripping beauties of Planet Supergrass. Sweet JP and Sonashee swam in silence through the air towards one another, bathed in a colorful neon blue light. They embraced, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes.
“Sonoshee…” The pompadour’d blue eyed slickster whispered as their lips drew near, “I love you.”
“I love you too, JP.” The green and pink haired girl replied before leaning in for a kiss.
All the racers marvel at the sight, least of all the Super Boin sisters Bosbos and Boiboi. I mean… who wouldn’t love such a romantic sight? The two let out a sweet “Awww” in unison.
However, the cute moment was ruined by explosions.
A lot of explosions.
Roboworld’s defense forces, recovering from the sudden hyperdimensional entry of the Race Commision Mothership underneath DEST tower, began to swarm onto the ruined site.
Shit. Popped. Off. Heat-seeking missiles, flak cannons, self-forging explosive submunitions and laser cannons! It’s an orgy of dazzling violence and mayhem. To make matters worse, the colossal misshapen figure of Colonel Volton, now merged with Funky Boy and the other goliath bioweapon, begins to lurch itself over the horizon from the ruins of Zone XXXXXXX. It appears as if he is gathering up all of his bioenergy for a potent quasar blast to take out the pesky racers and their commission sponsors once and for all. Not even the Mothership could withstand a direct hit from firepower like that.
With all the vehicles destroyed in the chaos (including the magical Boincar), the Race Commission Mothership released its ruby red fighter jets to retrieve their people. They start buzzing around in dizzying arcs over the ruins of DEST tower, sweeping the tracks and plucking up the racers with tractor beams and mecha arms. The lovey dovey couple is snatched up first, then Metal Head. It made sense- everyone’s eyes were on the winners and the galaxy would never forgive Redline if the stars of the show ended up in the hands of the Roboarmy!
The buxom Boiboi and Bosbos stood atop the Boincar’s big purple gem breasts, waving their arms and bouncing to get the fighters’ attention. They should have been easy to spot half- naked like this! Bosbos had removed her jacket and Boiboi unzipped her body suit down so that the top half hung around her waist. This left them in only their bikinis- Bosbos’ a strapless lilac bandeau to match her eyes and Boiboi’s deep violet bikini contrasting her pink hair. Jumping up and down, the Super Boin sisters most certainly lived up to their name.
“Right here!” The green-haired Bosbos called out as a drone approached them. It engaged its tractor beams, lifting them both off the ground and resolving with certainty every viewer’s curiosity about what tits look like in Zero-G… until a missile slammed into the side of the fighter and exploded the craft into a million tiny pieces.
The Superboin sisters, suddenly beholden to gravity once more, tumbled forward past the wreckage of the bodacious Boincar. They fell down into a crevasse between the car’s womanly legs. “Heeeyyyy!” Boiboi got to her feet and shouted, “Try again!”
Now that they weren’t chasing thirty five thousand horsepower race cars breaking the sound barrier, Roboworld’s totally peaceful and benevolent self defense force actually stood a chance of making a difference. Sand Bikes and Crow Fighters dove onto the finish line, firing their machineguns wantonly at just about everything that moved. And everything WAS moving!
A second fighter appeared to retrieve the Super Boins and that same fighter was blasted into dust by a particle evaporator beam shot from some distance away. A Roboarmy plane trailing flames was hurtling straight towards them.
“Oh, Princess!” The two sisters shouted, grabbing eachother and jumping off the wreckage onto a clearing further down! The fighter went straight in between the Boincar’s legs and erupted in a fiery explosion that set off a chain reaction. The car’s womanly body stretched her legs out and threw her head back, venting magical energy out of its circular mouth. A moment later and it exploded in a dizzying burst of pink climax fire. RIP Boincar.
The whole earth shook and the Super Boins fell to the ground as it seemed to lift up into the air. Stone and concrete broke into colossal pieces and they slid down a hundred feet into a pile of rubble… only to see the Race Commision Mothership rising up in the air, licked by a thousand tiny little fighters shooting at it. Ruby red, sleek, and massive, the titan ascended into the sky.
From over the way, the merged bioweapon of Volton and Funky Boy started gathering up energy for a blast that not even the Redline Mothership could endure.
“Waaaaaaaaaait!” The bodacious babe racers cried in unison, “Don’t just leave us here!”
With a reverberating reverse echo building up to a climactic pulse of energy, the Mothership’s hyperdimensional drive engaged and it blasted off into space- leaving the Superboin sisters stranded on Roboworld.
Needless to say, their enthusiasm for the race’s climactic finish was somewhat deflated.
A swarm of Robo defense force fighters converged on the pair, bringing to bear all their guns and missiles locked onto the two hapless Supergrass idols. Three cute little white androids with high pitched voices and doll-like bodies flew up to the Super Boins and raised their robotentacled arms menacingly at the women. The Robopolice’s faces opened up to reveal a powerful superheated plasma cannon.
“Surrender at once.” The mechanical girls’ voices chirped, “This is your final warning!”
Boiboi and Bosbos looked at each other with a sigh and raised their hands up into the air.
Deep underground beneath Zone XX lay the Bunker of Tourism. Filled with cobwebs and barely running on auxiliary power, it was currently home to the Secretary of Tourism himself, Mister Megozan. Unlike most of the higher ups in Roboworld, he might have appeared entirely human… from the front, at least. All of his cybernetics were on the back of his head, a myriad of wires sprawling out of his skull. His features were rather plain and unimposing, more of a bureaucrat than a glorious leader or a tactical mastermind. He certainly dressed like a corporate drone. The secretary was watching the conclusion of Redline on a contraband television broadcast illegally throughout the M-3 Nebula… and he looked absolutely mortified.
Not only was watching or gambling on Redline banned in Roboworld- a punishment worthy of death... but the Secretary had just witnessed the destruction of DEST tower and the transformation of Colonel Volton into a massive throbbing bioweapon to fight Funky Boy. All of Roboworld’s leaders were dead, its state secrets exposed to the galaxy, and its greatest weapon loose. Though he had to admit it was kind of exciting...
Megozan looked down and furrowed his brow. If everyone at DEST tower was a casualty, then...
He started counting his fingers, “The President and Vice President… The Secretary of Defense. Secretary of State. Secretary of Treasury, Interior, Prisons… Labor… Central Planning… Transportation…” He was running out of fingers to count on...
“Commander of the Special Forces... Volton.” Mister Megozan pointed at the television depicting the giant writhing mass of biomatter rippling with planet-cracking energy, then the secretary pointed to himself, “Secretary of Tourism.”
Realization dawned upon him. The head of state and his whole cabinet was in DEST tower at the moment the Race Commision Mothership blasted a hole in there with a hyperdimensional jump. That meant the line of succession was now down to him and Volton… who, and this couldn’t be stressed enough, was now a mass of barely stable organic matter capable of blasting a hole through to the earth’s core if he ever destabilized.
Most likely, this left only Megozan in line to be the acting head of state of Roboworld.
The current acting president of Roboworld... was hiding in an abandoned bunker, watching an illegal streetrace.
A pounding on the door made him jump and he immediately scrambled to start destroying the evidence. Roboworld soldiers on the other side barked, “Sir! Sir? Are you there, Mr. Secretary!? There’s been an emergency!”
Two months later…
The news was broken all across the galaxy on the major and minor media outlets. Apparently, the loyal and faithful citizens of Roboworld were just begging the acting President Megozan to declare another war in vengeance for the Redline racers’ wanton destruction and chaos. That’d be the third interplanetary war this year. But, as they always emphatically insist, the citizens of Roboworld are peaceful at heart.
On the demilitarized moon of EUЯPSS, a deal was brokered between all the entities involved. In absentia. The agreement stipulated that the guilty parties would restitute Roboworld all the damages incurred by the Redline race, to include the destruction caused by Funky Boy. Total sum? 7.3 quadrillion Robodollars.
The deal was struck and Roboworld proudly proclaimed a victory of its sacred principles and indomitable prowess over the violent imperialist yadda yadda yadda.
Everyone in the galaxy agreed that Roboworld was owed reparations. Except that the Redline Race Commission kinda just... didn’t pay them. Roboworld then turned to Princess Supergrass of Supergrass Planet, hoping to use the Superboin Sisters as their super hostages. The official response from the royal magic user was “Mmmmmmmmm…. Nah. Sorry, not sorry.”
This left Boiboi and Bosbos sitting handcuffed before the High Court of Roboworld, charged with paying off the 7.3 quadrillion themselves. Written longform, that’s 7,300,000,000,000,000 Robodollars worth of damages. That’s a lot of crusty bills and wiggly snails.
The idols were taken away while the tribunal discussed between themselves how these restitutions would be made. The Super Boins didn’t cry or lament their situation, but they most certainly didn’t look pleased with this outcome either. It was indeed quite troublesome...
The acting President and his acting cabinet sat around a circular table in the acting DEST tower, which wasn’t a tower at all, but rather the repurposed Bunker of Tourism. Contractors were working around the clock renovating the place, even during high level government meetings. It’d have to do while they fished out all the bodies of the previous administration from the wreckage.
Mister Megozan was entirely unprepared for this job. The Ministry of Tourism on Roboworld was… well, not really the lynchpin of the regime before. His annual budget was about three hundred Robodollars and he was barely even qualified to handle even that much… now, with Colonel turned Bioweapon Volton currently slumbering fifty miles under the surface of the planet just in case he accidentally goes on a rampage, Megozan was forced to lead the nation in these times of tribulations.
“So….” He tapped his fingers on his robochest as he spoke up to the group. Luckily he could surround himself with a temporary cabinet of like-minded individuals. No more stubborn old generals and statesmen like the previous regime had! In truth, he just picked the first eleven names he could think of. “We really need that money.” Megozan shrugged, “More importantly, we need them to pay for it.”
“Who?” One of his advisors asked, “The Super Boins?”
Megozan nodded melodramatically, “Princess Supergrass isn’t going to pay their ransom so… they have to work off the debt. How do you suppose we’re going to raise the funds? Constitutionally, we can’t make them race for us.”
“We have a constitution?” A member of the temporary cabinet interjected.
“Right!?” Megozan exclaimed with wide eyes, “But the only one who can amend it is the former president, specifically…”
“Aren’t they pop idols on their home planet? We could release an album!” One of the committee members suggested with a finger spiralling triumphantly in the air.
“Singing is constitutionally forbidden as well.” Megazon sighed as he nervously tweaked some buttons on his robotic chestplate, “...and dancing, gambling, theatre, stand-up comedy, parades, puppet shows, fireworks, and any film depicting these events. Punishable by liquidation.”
“No wonder we don’t get any tourists...” He muttered to himself off to the side.
“So what can we make them do?” An advisor asked with a particularly clueless look on his face.
“Well…” The acting president sighed, “There’s… um… one form of entertainment that’s not constitutionally forbidden on the moon of EUЯPSS. I think the founding father forgot about it… or, uh, he didn’t want to think about it.” Megozon grimaced at the unseemly thought.
One week later…
“I can’t believe they hung us out to dry.” Bosbos said after running some yellow-orange lipstick across her voluptuous lips. She pouted and made a few kisses to make sure it was even. The buxom woman adjusted the sunglasses atop her head, nestled in her short green and two-toned hair. The violet-eyed Super Boin was dressed in naught but a yellowish-orange fur coat, soft and luxurious to the touch. Her breasts are half-covered by the mink, which only goes down to her waist. With the way she was sitting, her knees pressed close together, it’s hard to tell if she was wearing anything else...
Matching her in a dark pink fur coat of her own, Boiboi flicked onto her eyelash the last remaining bit of mascara needed and tossed the applicator away. Her cheeks are painted with two hearts that match her two-toned pink hair. She narrowed her red eyes upon the other Super Boin, “Don’t you worry, the princess will think of something.”
The two of them were sitting on a bed, big and red and fluffy with dick-shaped pillows and an absurd amount of old-fashioned lava lamps crowding the single nightstand beside it.
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Bosbos flipped her hair, “It was just a little race.”
Boiboi reached over to the nightstand and pulled one of the drawers open, perilously making the lava lamps shake and tremble above. She retrieved an item from within, “They just don’t know what fun is!”
A pink glow of magic illuminates Bosbos’ back as she languidly stiffens her spine and scratched the back of her ear, “Do you think 7.3 quadrillion’s a lot?” She lazily asked.
“In Robodollars?” Boiboi replies, wincing for a moment with a girly inhale as she adjusts something beneath her waist, “Who knows?”
“I wonder how long it’ll take to pay it all off?” The green-haired beauty said over her shoulder to her sister.
“HEY!” A man’s voice from across the room barked, “We’re kind of in the middle of something here! Do you have to talk about this now right in the middle of the show!?”
It was the film director, a blue-skinned alien with wide-set eyes directly over her ears and a big bushy mustache. He stood among the rest of the crew- some two dozen men holding cameras, microphones, booms, lights, reflective panels, bubble machines, coffee cups, lube, pez dispensers, and anything else vaguely useful for a porno.
“That’s so UNPROFESSIONAL!!!” The director shouted as he furiously beat his cock.
Oh, that was the other thing the film crew were holding- their dicks. All of them had their pants down around their ankles as they furiously masturbated to the sight of the two ladies in nothing but fur coats. There was even a woman in the crowd, a purple-skinned alien with funnels for ears fingering herself. A whole lot them didn’t seem like they were actually doing anything to help the production along...
Bosbos rolled her eyes and swung over on her hands and knees atop the bed.
“Go easy on me, sis.” The green haired Super Boin mockingly wiggled her ass in the air. Just as you’d expect from an inhabitant of Planet Supergrass, her pussy was perfectly clean shaven- just a thin slit of pink lips glistening with arousal.
A slender hand cupped her sex and rolled up it through to the cleft of her ass… before winding up for a hard smack across her bottom! Bosbos’ butt shook like jello in an earthquake for a few moments before a pair of hands suddenly clapped each cheek. Boiboi licked her pink lips, kneeling from behind her sister. She swayed her hips like a golfer lining up a 300 yard drive.
“Three!” The pink haired racer counted, “Two!” She hunched over with two fistfulls of ass in hand, “One!”
A sparkling glow of super energy erupted from between her legs, bathing everyone in the room a nice neon shade of pink.
“Wuh!?” Bosbos blinked her dark blue eyes and looked over her shoulder, “Is that-?”
“A strapless super double dildo!” One of the alien crew members shouted, tears flooding down his eyes as he started to uncontrollably shoot arcs of wet white across the room, “She’s gonna control it with magic just like the Boincarrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”
Boiboi thrust her lower body forward, snuffing out the bright pink light as her hips met Bosbos’ ass and the magic dildo disappeared entirely within them both.
In the span of just a second, the green-haired sister went from mild surprise and amusement to full blown ahegao as her eyes widened and her mouth went agape with a crescendoing, “Ohooooooaaaaaahhhhhh!!”
Her blue eyes turned into violet criss-crossed hearts and all the men in the room moaned with her. With a manic look on her face, Boiboi started rolling her hips forward, fucking her sister in earnest. Their pussies met in a wet kiss with every thrust. The men of the film crew start popping off left and right, some arcing so far it splattered against the bed inches away from the sisters.
The pink-haired Super Boin threw her hands out in front of her chest, giving two peace signs as her sister bucked backwards into her with high powered backshots. Slap, slap, slap, slap, smack, smack, slap, slap, slap, slap!
You could dance to a beat like this.
Their pussies met and soaked one another as the shining pink dildo appeared and disappeared between their pink lips. Bosbos threw her head back with a mindless expression of pure pleasure as she bucked and rutted. Her sweat-soaked breasts swung back and forth out from the yellow fur coat, flinging beads of perspiration off with every bounce. Boiboi threw up a pair of devil horns, wincing one eye shut as the force of her sister’s backshots drove the dildo deeper up her own pussy. That was the thing about Supergrass magic… when they were racing, the Boincar had become an extension of their bodies. It had to be if they were going to control its armaments. In this case, the Super Boins felt in that moment the sensation of being fucked and fucking at the same time.
Boiboi had such a womanly figure, from her buxom bosom to her slender waist and her nice pert butt… and it was a such a girly butt, indeed! It jiggled every time their bodies slammed together. It must have seemed strange to witness such a bodacious babe fucking her sister like a man fucks.
“AAAGGGHHH, I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!” One of the cyborg boom operators declared, throwing the equipment down to the ground and pulling off his shirt to reveal a chest full of rippling muscles and biomechanical tech. He ran up to the bed with his cock in his hand at the Super Boins. Boiboi pulled back, the shining dildo popping out of her sister with a wet splash as she fell onto her behind purely out of shock from the brazen cyborg’s approach.
He was furiously grunting and groaning, his hand a blur of motion as he stood bow-legged beside the ass-up face-down figure of Bosbos. The pink-haired Super Boin Boiboi tilted her head to the side curiously at the man… just moments before a thick shot of spunk like a shotgun blast hit her square in the forehead, throwing her backwards off the bed and onto the ground head-first. Her legs flung into the air and the sopping wet dildo went flying out of her pussy. It bounced off the ground past her head and hit the wall before it plopped right back onto the floor, throbbing and convulsing with sex magic. The impact left a wet spot on the wall where some girlcum started to drip down the purple wallpaper.
Blue-eyed Bosbos just started to regain her senses, blinking hazily as she lifted her head up off of the bed… just to see the other two dozen crew members come roaring at her, dicks in hand. The cyborg boom operator seems to have opened the floodgates of orgiastic passion.
The green-haired Super Boin put her hands up in front of her face and let out a cry as she was deluged in hot torrents of cum, criss-crossing and splashing and splattering and streaming and just all around covering the bodacious babe. Some of it wasn’t even regular old human white either- alien cum that was thicker or thinner and all kinds of erotic colors. As it heaped on over her body- the ever body-conscious Bosbos felt several pounds heavier. It matted the poor fur of her coat too!
All the crew members started to make themselves scarce after they blew their loads, leaving Bosbos absolutely drenched in about two dozen loads of semen from her crown to her ankles. One thick strand crossed from her forehead over to her cheek and a thick pool accumulated between her lips, leaving the Super Boin’s expression fixed in a kissy-lips wink. Gravity pulled down at all the cum over her. Some of it was more watery, easily finding a way down through her cleavage or down between her buttcheeks. Other loads were thick and viscous, immovable until it was suddenly released like an avalanche. Rivulets of yellowish green alien cum mixed in with the creamy white spunk… which itself would soon join with some hot pink juices streaming down her belly. Added to all this mixture was her own sweat.
Bosbos finally had a moment to relax until her sister suddenly stomped her foot on the bed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. In her other hand she clutched tightly the wiggling magic dildo. Boiboi narrowed her eyes with a salacious grin and dove back onto the bed between her sister’s legs. She clutched one knee and started lapping, kissing, licking, and sucking every square inch of that pretty pink pussy, to include all the dirty cum that so much as dared to slide down and get in between Boiboi and her sister!
“Ohoho!” Bosbos grinned, clutching the sheets in her fists, “P-Princesssssssssss!”
She… could really make the funniest faces sometimes.
“I’m not done yet.” Boiboi said with her lips and chin slathered in girlcum, “Bosbos!”
“Boiboi!” Her sister replied, looking down past her breasts at the pink-haired Boin, just as she plunged the dildo into her sister’s pussy. It glowed pink, sticking out of her like a cock of her own and giving the slimy mess all over her a nice reflective sheen. Bosbos spread her legs as Boiboi scooched up to straddle her.
With a triumphant grin, the pink-haired Boin grabbed one of her sister’s legs and drove her pussy down around the other end of the dildo, throwing her waist down until their pussies met once more and obscured the pink glow. Their bodies were wracked with that same feeling as before of simultaneous penetration and reception. Using her sister’s leg like a pole dancer, Bosbos started fucking herself silly with their shared cock. She rolled her hips, their firm clits rubbing all the while as the dildo coursed with magical energy.
Their pussies clenched hard in a tug of war. Where Boiboi’s walls pushed the dildo out into her sister, Bosbos’ own sex tightened in return. The pink throbbing tool they shared thus shifted from one end to the other as their contractions fought to force it out.
As hot cum dribbled down her face, Bosbos let out a deep moan. Boiboi threw her head back and let out an exhortation of pleasure as well, clutching her sister’s ankle to her shoulder all the while. They came in unison, constricting the dildo so tight that it might have burst at the seams. As if compelled by some act of self-preservation, the magically enhanced cock started to fight back- cumming out both ends a hot pink substance that only further heightened their pleasure.
They writhed and spasmed together, eyes rolling into the backs of their heads as they started to gush girlcum (and magic dildo cum) all over eachother’s groins.
Boiboi collapsed in a heap of pure satisfaction, laying on her back opposite of her sister. They were still joined by the pink glowing shaft connecting their pussies, absolutely soaked and dripping all over the bed and down their asses. They panted and sighed as their eyes went half-closed with gratification.
“Well, it’s terrible.” Megozan declared, crossing his arms and huffing in the situation room of the Bunker of Tourism.
“It’s a porno, how can it be terrible?” One of his advisors asked.
The acting president sighed and lifted up a remote, aiming it at the massive television screen adorning the wall. He slammed his thumb on one of the buttons, causing an older advisor to shield his eyes and squirm, “Eaaagh! Warn me before you put on any of that… degenerate biophilia!”
“Just look.” The Secretary of Tourism sighed.
Everything was all blurry and you could just barely make out the Super Boins sitting on a bed… just talking. Apparently the sisters were carrying on some kind of conversation that the audio had to be cut out. The camera then suddenly zoomed WAY in and went out of focus, causing everyone at the table to reflexively recoil their heads back. They thought that they just barely made out a nipple in all the chaos.
The ensuing moments were all an incomprehensible mess. Zooming in and out, zoning in on really specific details or sometimes just drifting off the scene entirely and missing all the sexy times. There was absolutely no sense of composition or cinematography!
“This is totally amateurish.” Megozan drolly remarked, “Were they even trying to make a porno or some kind of art house film!?”
The older gentleman was still averting his eyes and shielding his face with his hands. An advisor next to him shrugged and explained, “We hired a refugee for cheap. He claimed he used to be a film director on Poncha Secundus...”
Megozan massaged the bridge of his nose with both hands and groaned, “We can’t sell this. How hard could this be? Pornography’s like the second biggest industry in the galaxy after Redline!”
Everyone in the room stared at him…
“Uh, so I’ve heard.” The secretary shook his head and continued, “Look. We have to get a real professional this time.”
“Isn’t that just going to cost us more money?” Some weasel-voiced man asked.
“Not if we get investors outside of the M-3 Nebula to sponsor it.” Megozan assured them, “That’ll cover the costs and, well, we can offer them time with the Super Boins or something.”
“But Prostitution is constitutionally illegal!”
“Not if you film it!” Megozan stood up and pointed his finger at the voice of opposition, “Then it’s just a porno! We could organize a raffle or something… and sell pornographic merchandise. Quick, make molds of their vaginas and digitally map their bodies for virtual reality simulations!”
“YES, SIR!” The soldiers in the room stood at attention and crammed into the door all at once as the secretary continued to brainstorm aloud, “We could have them compete against each other live so viewers can put money on their favorite....”
“Sir, this is starting to sound a lot like Redline...” Another voice annoyingly pointed out.
“Ah! This is nothing like Redline!” Megozan shouted as he furiously shook his fists in the air over his head, “Sh-shut your face!”
He resolutely slapped his fist into his palm and inhaled through his nostrils, “Alright, this time we’re going to do it right! Put the word out to the whole galaxy! We’ll call it the… the Super Boin Bang! We’ll make it Pay-per-view,... w-with advertisements on top, because fuck ‘em, that’s why! First, we’ll show the galaxy the might of our proud armed forces! The Boins will make an apology tour for the troops. Then we’ll sell limited VIP guest tickets to the wealthiest perverts in the galaxy. Those disgusting biophiliacs would pay out the ass for a chance like this!”
He cleared his throat, shaking off the vulgarity of his speech. “Finally, we’ll set them loose on EUЯPSS with a shuttle waiting for them at the end of a gauntlet. The path will be swarmed with those refugees ...and anyone else who wants a shot at them! Ten thousand Robodollars a ticket should do it. The Super Boins will never get through all of them!”
The room fell silent for a long time… before one of the committee members stood up and solemnly slow-clapped. The rest gradually joined him, until the room was filled with full-blown applause.
Mister Megozan was left with quite an inflated sense of importance and power...