Another pair of PANTS.

Right off the bat, let me say that the second and possibly final incarnation of my first Machine of Death story is available right here. I'm going to send it off tomorrow, pending one final read-through, so if it has any last traces of suck attached to it, here is the place to point the out to me. Here and now. My future is in your hands, except inasmuch as if I become the most famous man it the world, you will get no credit. Also, odds are I will never talk to any of you ever again, unless you figure out which one of my many mansions I'm staying at and break into it.

In addition, if anybody out there has a better interpretation of how someone would sassily say "didn't" I would much appreciate that. Thank you.