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I went to an adult book store and bought a few things for that special night. When Friday night arrived, we had a cocktail in the kitchen while dressed in our pajamas."You look like you're in pain?" Do you have indigestion or something?" Dad asked me."No," I said. "I've never been better." Actually, I was in some discomfort, and my father would soon find out why."What's all this?" Dad said as we went to his bedroom, where I had dumped the bag of stuff I had bought."Well, you know what this is," I said, holding up the large bottle of lube that I bought.Dad chuckled when he held up the device I had bought for him, the Iron Man 3000, which according to the package would make you as hard as the name implied."Why did you waste your money on this?" he asked. "These things don't work." If it doesn't, no harm done. Think of it as a Father's Day gift." What's this?" Dad said, a puzzled look on his face as he held up the empty plastic sleeve that held what it claimed was an 8" dong.I dropped. The contest started here and could continue in ANY non-populated area. With this out of the way we were free until the start of the contest two days from now. The preliminary fights were to take place the next day with us and No-Name as the featured event the following day.I decided to get in some practice time in the LAM. I had little real time in them, mostly simulator time. While I was doing that Karuska, Jones and the others spread out to gain what information they could about our opponents.Captain Neil Walton, boss man of our infantry, had one platoon of his men guarding our Dropship while the other circulated trying to pick up info. They hit all the bars, chip joints and dives around the spaceport. Between his men and Karuska's expertise with a computer they found No-Name's Dropship. It was a Union in pretty sad condition. Also Karuska worked out their communications frequencies. Something about the length of the antenna or some such garbage. I always thought all antennas were.
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I had to defuse the situation, if I could, if such an analogy even made sense after the bomb had gone off. My mom was calm, although I was sure she was holding in her emotions, and perhaps that was the solution.“Dad,” I said calmly, “let’s go talk in your workshop and let Mom talk with Liz, please.”“THERE IS NOTHING TO TALK ABOUT!”I took a deep breath, “Then let’s go to your workshop and you can scream at me as much as you feel you need to while Mom talks to Liz.”“Peter,” Mom said lovingly, “Mike has a point.”Dad glared at Mom, but I could tell he was going to acquiesce. I got up, filled both our coffee cups, and walked out of the kitchen, heading to the basement. I sat on the stool in the corner of my dad’s workshop and waited. He appeared about ten seconds later. I set his coffee up on the bench, then moved back to the stool.“You knew,” he said harshly.I had to be very careful how I answered, to protect Liz, Paul, Mr. Zhuravlyov, and myself, though the others were far more.

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