HOW I SPENT MY SUMMER VACATION

Part 3

by Flexman

THIS STORY IS A PARODY. Batgirl and Huntress are owned by DC Comics. This is a not for profit story. No one under eighteen should read this story.

Send comments to Flexman3@hotmail.com

      Batgirl entered her apartment, locked the door and stripped. She couldn't wait to remove those old sweats and disgusting sneakers. She throw her underwear in the laundry hamper, thought about taking a shower, but she had been bathed a lot over the last three days, including just before Riley had driven her home. Between the baths, massages and sex, Riley had his hands on every inch of her body. She put on her own sweats and began searching her apartment. Everything he said proved to be true. Her secret closet was empty, no backup uniforms or utility belts. Her computer was there but the hard drive and all her disks were gone. Her mother's jewelry were gone, her diary and phone book, also gone. Her dildos had been moved, she could tell. She called the bank and the brokerage company, her savings, mutual funds, brokerage accounts, all gone. The son of a bitch even found the three hundred dollars in cash she kept hidden in a water bottle in her kitchen. Left her a note, 'After your underwear draw, this is the first place everyone looks.' "Shit!" she yelled, "he's still taunting me." Only her checking account had money, he left enough to pay the rent and get her through to her next paycheck. The bastard even knows my budget. Her anger was boiling over. Being forced to have sex was bad enough, making her fulfill every sick fantasy he ever had, but him coming here and poking around every corner of her life, learning her private secrets was a far worst violation. She now felt more naked then she did in his house. And the humiliations, she loathed herself. He did far more then stripped her of her clothes. First, with having her strike that pose while he sat there leering at her, then the orgasms. The orgasms, how could she be so weak, how could see lose control like that? What's wrong with her? She never felt so humiliated in her life and that kiss, telling him what she liked. There was no doubt in her mind, he beaten her completely, took everything. Right now, she hated herself more then she did him.

      It took more then an hour for Batgirl to calm down. When she did, she fell in to her old habit and started to think it through, methodically. She didn't have her uniforms, batcycle or her files, with no money to replace them; obviously she couldn't continue to fight crime. She had to call Batman, and tell him. Tell him what? What happen to her? That an eighteen-year boy, kidnaped her, stripped her, robbed her of everything and made her in to his fuck toy. Ask for his help to get out of it? No! She already felt like a junior partner to him. Batman had never thought of her as an equal. Now this would confirm it, the humiliation could only get worst. Besides, what could he do to help her? If he screwed it up everyone she knew would pay the price. No, she would just tell him she needed a break, taking sometime off, make it sound convincing.

      What about Riley Parkin? What was she going to do about him? She had to think it through. He was a genius, she was sure of that. It wasn't just at eighteen, he figured out how to beat a sophisticated alarm system or his prowess with a computer, Barbara had met geniuses in college and he had the same mannerisms and attitudes; superior, cocky, self-assured, like he knew so much more then anybody else. He was inexperienced in sex. If he hadn't been a virgin, he was close, but what he lacked in experience, he made up in energy, enthusiasm and a hell of a lot of gall. Batgirl tried to formulate a plan. Twice, on Saturday night and then again on Sunday night, just before midnight, he left the house. Took his father's truck. She assumed that's when he went to prevent the Emails from going out. It had to be, it was the only times she was not with him. He was gone for about thirty-five minutes each time. He'd come back, take his clothes off and lie next to her in a spoon. She could feel his penis pressed on her ass, he put his hand on her breast and they would fall asleep. Thirty-five minutes, how far could he go? Figure about ten to fifteen minutes to get there, same amount of time to get back, maybe five minutes to do his thing on the computer. She was guessing; maybe he didn't cut it so close, maybe he took his time. She pulled out a map and tried to figure the radius. His high school was within the radius. It be locked, but locks don't seem to mean much to him, maybe he had his own secret way in. A good suburban high school might have dozens of computers, but only a fraction would have access to the web. The ones in the library, and if they taught a class on using the web, those computers had to have access as well. Shit, what if he used a friend's computer? Maybe he went to someone's house, that late at night? Not likely, but it was a weekend. Maybe some friend also had his house to himself. Too many possibilities, following him would be tough. It's a suburb, she would stand out. All he had to do was put the code in to the computer at anytime during the day before the time the Emails were programmed to send. She'd have to keep him under surveillance twenty-four hours a day, not possible. Batgirl couldn't come up with a plan of action. She'd have to wait for an opening. In the meantime that fucking kid would have control of her life, and her body.

      She said I have issues. Hey, she's right, but who is she to talk? I thought my life was screwed up, then I read her diary, didn't feel so bad anymore. I'm the way I am because of things that happen to me. I was a kid, had no choice. I didn't ask to have my mother split on me, didn't ask to have a father and sister who don't like me. What's her excuse? Her life's the way it is by her choice. I think she a better candidate for help then me.

      Her diary was a fascinating read. Barbara Gordon grew up a good girl; she didn't lose her virginity until her sophomore year of college. Shit, in this day and age, I guess growing up with a father who's a tough cop and then police commissioner is not easy. In her senior year she started a relationship with a guy named Ted. Isn't always like that? Girls like her always hook up with guys with names like Ted, Bob, Bill, or Dave. Anyway, the 'relationship', as she calls it, lasted almost two years. It broke up a year after she graduated from college. She found out Ted was going to marry someone else and not tell her. Hey, why would that break it up? If he had told her, would it have made any different? I guess she got sore she didn't get an invitation to the wedding. For the next two years she drifted from one relationship to another, none lasting more two months. She started doing the Batgirl thing by then. Being a librarian by day and fighting crime by night was not a good way to keep a relationship going. Then she pretty much gave up on the relationship thing. For the last two years she stopped dating all together and the only thing she shared her bed with was her dildo. What's really strange, she's always bitching to her diary about it; how thanks to being Batgirl, she's never going to be able to get married or have any kids, how Batman never treated her like an equal, or trusted her, and how it was all screwing up her life, shit like that. But she never did anything about it, just kept on going with the way thing are. Go figure, twenty-seven years old, beautiful face, killer body and that's the life she's living. I'm not a shrink, but my theory, she's either an adventure junkie, who's hooked on the thrills and danger or maybe she's a hardcore feminist who gets off busting men like Joker and the rest, and showing up Batman. Who the hell knows and who cares. I'm not trying to psychoanalysis her; I just want to fuck her, a whole lot. Always keep it simply.

I showed up at her place on Wednesday. I ordered Bats naked and began with the ceremonial licking of the balls and cock, then, after eating her a while, fucked her doggie style, after I shoved one of her dildos up her ass. Figured she might enjoy that more then my forefinger. She loved it, Bats came a full minute before I did. Then I cooked her dinner and we sat down at her kitchen table and ate by candlelight; that was my idea. She didn't say she liked my cooking but wolfed it down pretty fast. After watching TV for a while, we went to bed. I fucked her in the ass, but this time, instead of doing it from behind, she went on her back, I shoved her legs against her chest and entered her from on top. It was less awkward that way, playing with her clit while pumping away. There was something exciting about doing it in her bed. I mean, according to her diary, I'm the first man to sleep on it for more then two years. We washed up and then feel asleep together. In the morning, was a bit of a rush, she had to go to work and I had to go to school, so we just showered together. While she dressed, I cooked her breakfast. My high school graduation ceremony was on Friday, I ordered her to dress in a business type suit and be there.

      "Who am I suppose to be?" she asked. "Your cousin, aunt? What are you going tell everyone?"

      "I'm not going to tell them shit. I don't owe anybody there an explanation."

      "What about your family?"

      "It's just going to be you."

      "What are you, an orphan?"

      "Not exactly," I explained. "My mother split when I was twelve. I'm not the great jock my father was, so he doesn't give a shit about me. My sister wants to be with the 'in' crowd, she's very status and fashion conscious and I embarrass her. So, yeah, you're going to be the only one there for me."

      Bats showed up on time. She wore a powder blue suit with matching skirt, white shirt and black pumps. Her hair was made up and she looked great. I was class valedictorian, but I didn't want to give the speech, public speaking was not my forte. After the ceremony, I walked out of there with my arm around her waist and she had her arm around my shoulder. I could imagine what all my classmates were thinking. One of the class geeks has a older woman for a girlfriend, and she's better looking then any bitch they had. We went back to her place, where I cooked dinner and we ate. Then we spent the rest of the night fucking our brains out. Doesn't get any better then that. The next two weeks I'd drop by her place six times. It was great, all the sex I wanted and she was at my disposal. Now that school was out, I worked more hours at the store, this would go on until college started in the fall, but it still left a lot of free time for me to do things with her. At the end of the two weeks, she tried something on me. Hey, got to give the girl credit, she doesn't give up. Of course, she doesn't learn either, but what the hell.

      Batgirl was at her wits end. This was going too far and she saw no way out. The graduation ceremony was bad enough. After it was over he French kissed her in front of everyone, the other kids, their family and the faculty. Then walked out of there with his hand around her like she was his girlfriend. Worst, he made her put her arm around him and act the part. He whispered his famous line 'enthusiastic participation' in her ear. She was having nightmares about that phrase. She felt a little like a child molester. Yeah, he was eighteen, not a child, but she was twenty-seven, nine years older. Batgirl felt so out of place. The other day was the worst so far. She had a tough day at work, dealing with budget committees and the city council. Batgirl got home exhausted and drained. He was there waiting for her. She didn't have the energy for sex and was ready to plead with him to leave her alone tonight, but she didn't have to, he was...understanding and that's what made it so terrible. First off, he had gotten there two hours earlier and clean her place, it was spotless, she couldn't believe it. Seeing how tired she looked, he took her clothes off and led her to the bathroom, where he ran her a nice hot bath. He gently scrubbed her body, starting with her back. After he dried her off, he laid her on her bed and for the next hour gave the most wonderful massage possible. From her toes to her scalp, he worked her body with scented oil and she felt like she was melting, the stress leaving her body. She never had it so good. He let her take a nap while he cooked. They ate a quite dinner; watch TV, then went to sleep. In the morning they had sex, but she initiated it. Partly she felt obligated after how great he treated her the prior night and also because she was horny. She had been alone so long, it felt good to wake up next to someone and get it on, instead of reaching for one of her dildos. This is what made it so terrible, he was not her boyfriend, he was her blackmailer, yet she was starting to enjoy it. He was endangering her and everyone she knew. He stole her money and her mother's jewelry. She shouldn't be feeling this way toward him. He knew how to push her buttons, how to manipulate her. If she was just his fuck toy, why was he so concern whether she came or not? Why didn't he just enjoy himself and to hell with her? Was it all about ego? Batgirl felt so conflicted, she desperately needed to talk to someone, she need to unload. Helena was the only other person who knew she was Batgirl, so she was the only choice. She invited her to over.

      Helena Bertinelli, a.k.a. the Huntress, came over. They split a bottle of wine as Batgirl told her everything. Helena listened intently without interrupting.

      "My God Barbara, it sounds unbearable."

      "I don't know what's come over me. I'm beginning to enjoy and appreciate him. "

      "Two possibilities," Helena explained. "One, he's using your diary to pull your strings. He knows you're lonely and he's filling your needs. Second, the Stockholm syndrome, you're becoming infatuated with the man who's trap and abuses you. Happens all the time."

      Barbara nodded. "He set it up very well, I don't see anyway to get out of it."

      "Let me deal with him."

      "No. He's an arrogant bastard, but his still an eighteen-year-old boy. I don't want him killed."

      "Not to worry, I won't kill him. I'll just reason with him."

      "I know how you reason with people, Helena. That's what worries me. He has this whole blackmail scheme well thought out."

      "Barbara, I don't care how smart he is, or how well he has this whole thing set up, he's still just an eighteen year old boy. He's nothing but raging hormones, and a big, irrational ego. The only way to solve this is to terrorize him. He must be more scared then he's ever been in his life. He must know real fear, then he'll do anything we tell him to. I can do that."

      "You know what's at stake? I don't think you've ever run in to someone like him."

      "Trust me Barbara, I won't let you down."

      Monday Night - 9:21pm.

      The store closed at nine. The employees were leaving, heading for their rides. Huntress watched from the driver’s seat of her black Lamborghini. She had been in the store earlier as Helena Bertinelli to get a look at Riley Parkin. She spotted him leave the store. He got in to a car with another salesman. They left the parking lot and got on 80 west, she followed. The car dropped Riley, her prey, off on the corner of Creamridge and Vacca. Riley would walk the rest of the way home. She knew his address. Huntress checks the map on her console. The fastest way home would be, for dear Riley, to walk through the park. Perfect, she thought. It was going to be another interesting night for Mr. Parkin. Only this one would be far different then the one he had with Batgirl.

      It had been a long day, but a good one. Made some good sales, the commission check was going to be a good one this week. I cut across the park, like I've done a hundred times before. Half way across I felt a sharp pain in my thigh. I quickly looked down and saw it, a dart sticking out of my leg. I reached down, pulled it out and looked at it. It was a tranquilizer dart, like the kind they use in zoos to knock out the animals, not quite as big. I turned back to see who shot me. It was dark, I couldn't see anyone and my vision was starting to get fuzzy. I began to run, trying to get to the street and maybe the nearest house. Never made it, my legs gave out and I collapse. The last thought before passing out was 'Hell, they ruin a good pair of khakis. I'll make them pay.'

      I woke up. I was naked. Naturally, it was the first thing that caught my attention. I was seated on the floor, my back against the wall, my arms spread out to the sides each handcuffed to a pipe. It took a few minutes for my head to clear. I shook it andtook several deep breaths; it helped. I was in a square room, with grey brick walls. One window on the opposite wall; boarded up and blacken. Light came from a lamp on each corner opposite me. There was a table in the middle of the room and a mattress on the floor to my right. There was a door near my right corner. I had no idea what time it was or how long I've been out. I waited for whatever was going to happen. I tried to remember, did I wear clean underwear this morning? You know, mothers are always telling their kids to wear clean underwear in case an ambulance has to take them to the hospital and they have to take your clothes off. I don't think this is what they had in mind, but somehow the principle seemed to apply. I don't know how long it was, but I heard her before I saw her; heavy footsteps from heeled boots, on the hard wooden floor. I think it was suppose to intimidate me. She walked in to the room. Wow, and I thought Batgirl's costume looked stupid. Another tight nylon body suit, a longer cape, utility belt and knee high boots; knee high boots? Come on, you got to be kidding me. She had this gold cross on her chest; least she was religious, setting a fine example for the youth of America. No cowl, no wig, just a very elaborate face mask. She didn't say a word, didn't even look at me. She put her bag on the table and began taking stuff out. First, a Rambo knife, made a big deal of holding it up and examining it, for my benefit, I think. Then she pulled out a pair of pliers, a ball pin hammer, a riding crop, some lemons and a bottle of smelling salts. When she was done, she looked at me for a few moments.

      I smiled, "Is it just me or are you getting turn on too?"

      No change in her blue eyes, she didn't find me amusing, I hate the super serious ones. She picked up the pliers, walked around the table and came up to my feet. Nudged them with her boot.

      "Spread your legs," she ordered.

      "I love it when women say that to me." I did, she took two steps and knelt down near my crotch. Held the pliers close to my balls.

      "Your going to pay for what you did to Barbara, and you're going to tell me everything I want to know," she said with an evil smile on her face.

      "Actually, I'm going to tell you more then you want to know. A lot more."

      Her expression changed. I confused her. She stared at me. She was wondering what I meant by that. Time to take control.

      "Before we start, may I ask you a question?" Didn't wait for permission, it was a rhetorical question. "Don't you think this is a little too melodramatic, Helena?"

      For a second I thought she didn't hear me use her name, but she froze. It was like rigor mortis set in, she looked almost like a statue. All but her eyes, they had the same shocked look I saw in Bats eyes when I first used her real name. I smiled.

      "I know what your thinking, Bats thought the same thing. You want to know how I found out. You're in luck; this is the part of the interview where I show off how smart I am. I'll explain, and more importantly, I'll tell you what I did about it."

      She slowly stood up and walked back to the table. "Did Barbara tell you?" she asked quietly.

      "No, of course not."

      A thought occurred to her. "The diary?"

      "Not exactly. I was reading the diary, there were these entries about an 'H'. The way she wrote about this H, you could tell she was a good friend. You could also tell H is a super hero too. There were these entries about how you had the same problems she has with men and getting laid because all the time it took to fight crime. How Batman didn't treat either of you as equals. You know, women crap, comparing notes, shit like that. She even wrote how you work with kids and she envied you for that. Anyway, there was this entry on how H and her busted up a ring of muggers preying on the elderly. So I went on the computer, to the news groups, to the Gotham crime beat section for that day and bingo. An article on how Batgirl and the Huntress got the gang. Mystery solved, H is the Huntress, but something kept bugging me. Whenever she wrote about Batman, Robin, Nightwing, she wrote out their names completely, but with you it was just H. I thought it was a woman thing, but I saw two entries on her meeting Wonderboobs and Superslut and she wrote out their full names, no initials. I couldn't get over the inconsistency. People are creatures of habit, routine and rituals. Then it hit me, you're good friends and you know each other secret identity, so maybe H isn't for Huntress, maybe it's a real name. I got her phonebook and looked up every woman whose first name starts with H. There were only three, Helen, Helena and Helga. Helen lives in Metropolis and is married; you obviously are not. I hacked in to the DMV and looked at licensees. Helga is fifty-two years old and quite a bit overweight, she another librarian. On the other hand, you, Helena Bertinelli, fit the profile completely. I called your work number in the phonebook and got the sixteen-avenue middle school. Work with kids, a teacher, perfect. I hacked in to the Board of Education data base, got all your information, including the list of students and their addresses in your class, this year and last. I read everything about you on the web and I also put in your real name and found out about your family. I figured since you are the only other person who knows she Batgirl, you'd be the only person she'd talk to about me. I figured sooner or later, you'd come after me. This was intimating, unlike all the other heroes, you kill people. You're a real psycho bitch. I guess watching your family get gun down will do that to you. Anyway, I knew you'd try something medieval like this, so I prepared a set of files on you. I put you drivers license picture, your complete bio and all the data I got on the kids in your classes. One difference though, I read your big focus is on the Mafia. You spend most of your time being a big pain in their ass. Now the Mafia doesn't have their own website, least not yet, but being modern times, most of the Dons have Email addresses, and I found out what they are. The set up is the same as Bats. If I don't access a computer before a certain time each day and reset the clock, the Emails post and the Dons all get to know you and your students personally.

      Watching her face was so cool, all the confidence faded and in its place this strange combination of rage, disbelief and defeat all dancing on her face. She stood there glaring at me. I couldn't guess what was going through her mind. Decided to take a chance. "Helena, unlock these cuffs," I ordered. She didn't move. "Hey babe, things have changed, it's not just Bats life anymore, now you have something at stake. Not the same, is it?"

      That did it; she pulled out the keys and freed me. I got up and walked over to her, she looked she was going to bite me. "You sick, cold blooded, fucking bastard."

      "Yeah, yeah, alright already. You and Bats are not going to nominate for sainthood. I got the picture, can we move on now?"

      She looked at me. "Do you know what these people will do to those kids, just to get back at me? How can you be so inhuman?"

      That did it. I walked up to her, my face less then an inch from hers. Would have had a more dramatic effect if I weren’t completely naked with my cock hanging out.

      "I really have a hard time with you standing here high and mighty, talking about right and wrong when a minute ago you were threatening to tear my balls off with pliers. You're a fucking hypocrite. When you do evil things, it's Ok because you're doing it for a good cause; when someone else does them, they're cold blooded. Spare me the bullshit, I get enough of that in my life." She didn't want to face me, her eyes dropped down.

      "So what happens now," she asked. "I become your slut too?"

      "Hey, it's inconvenient having to stop those Emails everyday. Have to plan my schedule around that. It be nice if I had some motivation."

      Without saying another word, Huntress started stripping. First she removed the long cape, her gloves, utility belt, boots and socks. Then she unzipped her body suit and slipped it down until it lay crumpled at her feet. She stepped out of the pile wearing only her mask, black bra and thong. Her bra came off next, followed by the thong and her mask was last. She was heavier then Bats, more muscle, sexy but muscular. Like Bats, she had the six-pack ridges on her flat abs, the thick muscled legs and sprinter’s calves were even more harder, like they were sculpted out of marble and very smooth. She had no bush to speak of, only a thin line of hair running along her slit; the rest was clean-shaven and very smooth. Almost not worth ordering her to shave it, but I would. You have to keep these super heroines in line or you spoil them. Yeah, listen to me; I'm a real expert. Her tits were a little bigger then Bats, but what grabbed my eye was her nipples, huge. Huntress had the largest areolas I've ever seen in any nude magazine or DVD. They were larger around then a coke can; they dominated her impressive breasts. It was hard to get my eyes off of them.

      "Hunty, I think it's time I explain my two rules to you.”

It started the same way as it did with Bats, I had her come over and French kiss. The first time it was a half ass effort. I whispered in her ear if that's the best she could do, I was getting dressed. That did it; her second kiss was intense and lasted a long while. My cock was got harder and hotter; she jumped when it pressed against her. I ordered her on her knees, she expected it and seemed resigned to it. I don't think she ever gave a blowj ob before, she didn't seem to know what to do, but she knew how to follow instructions and did. Huntress was surprise when I shot off in her mouth.  

“Swallow it,” I ordered; she did that too. We went to the mattress. Huntress has a nasty streak; she was meaner and harder then Bats. You could tell by the expression on her face and body language. No way would she'd give in and give me the satisfaction of seeing her having an orgasm, she was going to resist all the way. She had one problem, it didn't take long to find her hot spot, it was the most obvious one. I don't think anyone ever took a survey on who has the most sensitive nipples, but if they did Hunty would be near the top. To watch them inflate and get hard to a point where they looked like they would burst right in my face was fucking amazing. They were so big to begin with, now engorged they looked unreal. And sensitive? Her hips kept jumping off the mat, her big feet curled tight, her hands gripped the mattress and she had no ability to control the expression on her face, she looked like she was under siege. Another thing, I couldn't get over how wet she got. More then Bats ever did. I could stick my hand in there and come out with gobs and gobs of the stuff. It got worse when I was working on her clit. It was about as sensitive as her nipples and got just as pumped up, looked almost like a small cock. I alternated licking and light bites. Pretty soon she started making this muffled noise, she was really struggling. I decided patience was the way to go. I worked on her for almost an hour and a half. My tongue, jaw and fingers were getting sore. The sounds were getting louder. Finally,

      "Fuck me already," she screamed.

      "No," I answered.

      "What the fuck is wrong with you? Fuck me!"

      "Not yet."

      "You bastard!"

      "Has it ever occurred to you to just say please?"

      "Fuck you!"

      "In due time."

      I kept at it, her body was so tense bullets could bounce off of her. Tears were streaming down the side of her face. She was grinding her teeth. "Ok, ok please!"

      "Please what?"

      "Please fuck me!"

      "No, do it right. Please sir, may I be your fuck toy, I'm begging you."

      She started to scream.

      "Please sir, may I be your fuck toy, I'm...begging you."

      "That's better, much better." I turned her over on her stomach and went in from the back. She was so tight, tighter then Bats. Doesn't this bitch ever get laid?

       "Harder, please!" she screamed.

      "Yes, ma'am." I started slapping her ass cheeks as I continued ramming her harder and deeper with each screaming request. Huntress looked like she was going out of her mind. She let out a lot of moans and quick screams. I grabbed her long black hair and pull on it until her back was arched. I felt her exploded inside, letting out her loudest scream. What a screamer. I couldn't get over how much cum this bitch put out, buckets full. It got all over her ass and thighs; my balls were dripping with it. If it ever hardens, it would be so thick you'd need a chisel to get it off. A minute later I shot off too and she screamed again.

      Lying there on top of her. She was still breathing hard through her opened mouth, her eyes shut, and the expression on her face was like she was recovering from a beating, like someone worked her over pretty good. Her body was completely limp and weak as a luke warm tea. I felt like I could do anything I wanted to her, she looked so weak and docile lying there. I started examining her limp body, those big feet, muscular calves; I spread her ass cheeks and looked at anus. She didn't resist at all. I stood up and put my foot on one of her ass cheeks like I did with Bats in the store. She didn't react; I had her. She looked completely beaten. An idea popped in to my head.

      Getting laid by the Huntress was great; getting driven home in her Lamborghini was better. I got to get me one of these. She dropped me off at the park where she picked me up. I kissed her goodbye hard, still no resistance on her part and her tongue danced with mine.

      "Leave Barbara alone, use me," Huntress asked.

      "Yeah, right. Like I'm really going to settle for one when I can have both." I took her mask; I need it for my new plan. The windows of her car were darkened; so no one could see in. I told her to have her pussy completely shave. She nodded. Then I gave her instructions for next time. She looked shocked but agreed.

      "Don't tell Bats. I'll do it," I ordered.

      Again, she nodded. I got out of the car and she drove off. I didn't have to be at work until later that afternoon. I could get some sleep. The summer was getting better and better.

TO BE CONTINUED