"God, you're huge," Maybell said in dismay to Sara Jane's feet. "What did you do to yourself since I last saw you?"

"More genetics, Baby!" Sara Jane cheered. "It's the way to go!"

Maybell didn't hide her displeasure. She sat on the loveseat, pulling her legs up to her chest and using her towel to cover her crotch.

"There's not gonna be any girl left," she said, "if you keep doing that."

Sara Jane disagreed. "I didn't get any more genes. I just switched some of them out. Got some different horse in me, that's all."

Maybell made herself small by crossing her ankles and hugging her shins, holding her head with her nose near her knees. "You're still fucking huge," she lamented. "And I don't see how this business plan is gonna work. No one's gonna wanna do business with me."

With a bit of a yip and a yowl, Heinemann sat beside Maybell. He turned so as to face her.

"Honeycakes," he said, "you'll do fine."

"No I won't," Maybell said into her knees, her eye cast down and staring at nothing.

"You did great with me."

Without moving her head, Maybell looked Heinemann in the eye. "Yeah," she pointed out. "By fucking you."

Heinemann held out an open hand, so as to silence such nonsense. "Don't think of me as being dumb. I knew what you were up to the minute I met you. When you plopped your butt in that chair and that bottle of whiskey in front of me, I knew right then you were hunting me."

"It's bourbon," Sara Jane pointed out, backing away to stand by the wall near the door. "Woodford Reserve. Kentucky's finest. Uncut, with no sedge or seaweed at all."

Heinemann spoke during Sara Jane's pauses, bolstering her claim. "Yes! It's good! It tastes great, and you have a stable supply! Getting it out here this far, uncut and undisturbed, is a marvelous marketing feat."

Sara Jane huffed, loud and airy. "Yeah? So what? Who cares? No one I know gives two shits about that sort of thing."

"I do," Maybell said, perking up and speaking loud, in defense of her ex-girlfriend.

Sara Jane smiled at the compliment, but continued unhindered. "Out here, you could piss in booze, and folks'd still buy it and drink it. No one cares. Booze is booze."

Maybell touched her toes to the floor, hugging her knees and rocking, disagreeing with what Sara Jane said. "People care! I know they do! Gavin and Bobcat and Heinie—they care. We all do."

Sara Jane cast an eye upon Maybell. "Do you see what you did?" Heinemann grinned as Maybell showed uncertainty, while Sara Jane pointed out a fact. "You proved that the people who care are people who know you."

Heinemann chimed in cheerily. "That's right! You see! People like you! And they care! You're a leader to them. And with you in our pack, we'll get lots of sweet business contracts."

Maybell pulled her legs back to her chest, again looking small by resting her chin on her knees. "No, I won't," she said, sounding certain. "Not unless I fuck'em first."

Heinemann thumped her in the shoulder with love, getting her to totter to the side, and forcing her feet back on the floor. "Ach," he barked. "Yes you can." He thumped her again, making her giggle. "And you don't have to fuck people to get them to do things." He craned his neck near her face, forcing her to look at him. "You fuck because you like to screw."

Sara Jane whinnied on a laugh. "You got that right, Mister!"

Maybell cracked a huge sideways grin, agreeing with what was said. Sara Jane then opened the door to the room. Putting her fingers in her mouth, she let out a whistle that was loud enough to be heard halfway around Mu-Beta-Prime. After that, she returned to her creaking chair, all the while making tons of noise.

In a calm voice, she spoke to her old friend. "Baby, you don't have to worry your pretty head about anything like that. We're not gonna ask you to be play nice, or behave and not screw around."

"Well, that's good, I guess," Maybell muttered, feeling a little hurt by the off-handed nature of the compliment.

"All you gotta do is be our runner. Maybe ferret out some good side deals and such. Help us stock up on useful things we can sell. You know—odds and ends you might find that we can use to turn a profit."

"I'll handle the paperwork," Heinemann said, touching Maybell with love. "I'll do the contracts and get us good discounts, and pay our fees and taxes and such. You just handle the goods and collect the creds."

Maybell again took to hugging her knees, speaking into them with concern. "So, there's gonna be creds? I mean, like, real creds? Not just chits and barters and such?"

"Real creds, Baby," Sara Jane said while she and Heinemann nodded. "On the wire with your name, for everyone else to see."

Maybell glanced back and forth between her friends. "Real creds in my name? Creds that I can show people?"

Sara Jane stood up again, walking to the door to peer down the staircase in the hallway. "And maybe spend some of'em too. Everyone'll know you're rich."

She spoke with distraction while looking out the door. Turning to her friends, she asked, "Could ya get dressed now? I got another surprise. One not even you coulda seen coming."

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Heinemann went to various parts of the room, gathering both his clothes and Maybell's. He tossed hers on the loveseat beside her, and put on his pants.

"Still no shirt for you, huh?" Maybell asked, as Heinemann got dressed in an instant.

"Nope," he replied. "Shirts itch."

As Maybell fumbled with unknotting her clothes, she asked, "Why not get the Splicers to fix that for you?"

Heinemann smiled, big as pie. "Cuz I like being shirtless. That hyena DNA spliced into me has sucked every gram of fat from my body." He flexed in comical ways. "Look at me! I'm maximum ripped!"

Maybell laughed while Sara Jane groaned. "I like going topless, too," Maybell said, putting on her shirt and vest regardless.

"No you don't," Sara Jane said. "You like naked."

Maybell laughed all the harder. "No I don't! I wear my boots!"

Sara Jane shook out her mane to keep from grinning, staring again out the door. "Unless you're in the bath or shower," she teased. "Which is pretty much all the time."

Maybell sounded cheery after having gotten dressed. "Hey! If I board you, I get full dibs on that sweet Japanese bath, don't I? The one with the waterfall."

Sara Jane snorted with scorn. "Yeah, but I'm rationing your water. You'll only get so much."

Maybell brimmed with mischief. "That's okay! I'll figure a way to get around it."

"I'm sure you will," Sara Jane muttered. She then clopped her hands together. "Okay! Big surprise! You, Bitch, won't have to do any schmoozing. Not with established clients or providers. I'll keep the ship supplied. Heinemann's got the books and paperwork covered, and apparently Kelles is gonna make sure Gavin's storeroom is well-stocked and organized, filling it to the brim."

"You're really gonna turn this ball of mud into a place of commerce?" Maybell asked, still showing disbelief.

"Oh yeah, Honeycakes!" Heinemann said, sounding certain. "Gavin's storeroom is huge. And Bobcat has these nice rooms to let, always with no one in'em, so you say." Maybell nodded, looking with love into Heinemann's eyes. "We're gonna fill that storeroom with stuff people want, and these rooms with people who want it, or who want to sell us more stuff. And if Kelles is staying dirt-side…"

"She is," Maybell said.

"…then we're sure to make scads of profit."

"But what about the people? You know, like suppliers and vendors? Who's gonna keep them happy?"

Both Sara Jane and Heinemann stared in silence at Maybell, enjoying that rare moment where she was oblivious.

"What?" she asked, sounding confused. "I'm not gonna have sex with people just to help you guys."

Sara Jane showed all her horse teeth, as her smile grew huge. "You could, though," she said. "You might too, just for fun. You can fuck your way into the heart of any man or woman you want."

Maybell scuffed at the dusty floor. "Yeah. Well, I could," she said to her boot. "But I won't."

A loud clopping sound made its way up the stairs, interrupting the somewhat tender moment. The person making the noise sounded larger than Sara Jane, and moved at a turtle's pace.

"Maybell, meet Claire," Sara Jane said, waving out the door at the person doing the clopping, trying to get her to hurry.

In walked a woman built like a dream. She was huge, like Sara Jane, and beautiful. But while Sara Jane's chest sported hair and was man-like, with muscular female breasts, this woman's boobs were enormous. They were pendulous pontoons with cupcake nipples. She had them wrapped in a lemon-lime choli made of crisscrossed layers of fabric, all meant to hold such massive knockers in place.

Of obvious Hindu descent, her colorful blouse was paired with a jazzberry sari skirt. Like her oversized breasts, her hips were huge, made all the more pronounced by the way the sari clung to her thin calves and knocked knees.

Two horns curled out from a head of hair that was jet black, yet shone like spun gold. Her animal ears were covered with an array of pins, earrings, tags and charms. Finally, a stressed, square brass cowbell hung from her neck on a choker.

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Claire [https://i.imgur.com/ZRKy5S8.jpg]

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She chewed a wad of pink bubble gum like it was cud while standing beside Sara Jane. Maybell curled up again on the loveseat, bringing her legs up even higher, to hide her face behind her knees. Sensing stress, Heinemann sat beside her, and put an arm around her to show support.

"Maybell, this is Claire," Sara Jane reiterated. "She'll be our go-between. She knows people in thousands of settlements, and speaks all kinds of lingo, as her herd of friends and relatives is scattered across space."

"Hello, Maybell," Claire lowed, slow and polite, and with emphasis.

Heinemann whispered in Maybell's ear. "Say hello to Claire."

"Hello, Claire," Maybell said into her knees.

Sara Jane carried on, loud and confident. "So you see, you don't have to worry about schmoozing. You can schmooze if you like, and of course I encourage you to do it, but Claire will take care of all our official meets-and-greets."

Without looking up, Maybell spoke as a matter of fact. "She's a cow, isn't she?"

In the awkward silence that followed, Claire blew a bubble the size of a cantaloupe. As she did, Sara Jane leaned towards her a bit, speaking quietly, as if in confidence.

"Maybell has a bit of a hang-up over genetic implants. She means no disrespect. I mean, not really."

After deflating her bubble and re-chewing it, Claire spoke in her low voice. "Then no offense is taken. I know who I am and like what I've done. Cows are sacred in my religion."

As Claire spoke, Maybell muttered, her face buried in her knees. With her hands on her head, she spoke so soft that only Heinemann's enhanced hearing could pick out a few of the words.

"Oh God. Oh my God. What have I done? What have I done?"

Heinemann found a spot on Maybell's head that wasn't hidden by her hands or knees, and gave it a gentle kiss. He hugged her tight with the arm he had around her, shaking her a bit in an attempt to dislodge her face and look up.

"I know Claire from way back," he said with kindness. "She's the best! She has hundreds of friends and relatives."

"Yeah, so I've heard." Maybell moaned. "A whole herd."

Failing to sense her dismay, Heinemann cheered Maybell's pun. "That's right! And with Sara Jane, we visited lots of them. They work great together."

"Like a herd," Maybell said into her knees.

"That's right! And so, through Claire, we'll have a network of suppliers, and retailers and vendors and such. With you as our runner, we'll turn a smart profit. We'll corner the market on useful stuff around here. I mean, I only marketed cigarettes." He leaned in close, to try to get Maybell to look at Claire. "A dangerous commodity to transport, as we are all well aware. But with Claire's knack for teamwork, and with her friendly nature…"

"I bet those boobs have lots of friends," Maybell muttered.

"…We'll make money transporting safer goods." He looked at Sara Jane, grinning ear-to-ear. "And with Sara Jane's solid supply of Kentucky Bourbon, and me selling cigarettes from time to time, and your knack for picking up sweet plums of deals, we'll be famous!"

Maybell looked straight into Heinemann's eyes, her face an inch from his.

"I'll be famous for having a boyfriend with grey and brown fur, and for hanging out with giant women who look like horses and cows!"

Heinemann's smile twisted into a look of concern. As he stared in the direction of the two other women, Claire leaned towards Sara Jane, lowing into her ear.

"Is she always going to be such a bitch?"

Sara Jane merely shrugged. Then, breaking the silence, the bell on Claire's choker rang. Maybell's head popped up, alarmed in response to the sound. She stared straight into the eyes of her new business partner.

"What the hell is that?" Maybell asked.

"Ah, it's Claire," Sara Jane explained, fumbling a bit with the words. "It means she needs to be milked."

Maybell cried out in anguish, curling back into a ball and laying against Heinemann. As he patted her back and consoled her, Claire blew another giant bubble.

And Sara Jane whinnied and laughed, all of it much too loud.