No fucking disrespect meant. It being your fucking country and all. But it’s one fucking shitty, pissing awful place. There’s been fucking nothing...to recommend it to fucking anyone.” “So you’re fugitives,” smiled Buttercup warmly as Tracey nervously walked towards her. “I’m a fugitive too, you know. From the Royal Court. Well, not quite the Royal Court: but from behind the Big Wall. I’ve just escaped.” “How did you manage that?” “It wasn’t easy. But I used to make love with one of the guards. They were more like leotards. Skintight from the waist down. Sure I’d be wearing boots and the jacket would fall just below my waist, but whether or not I was ‘wearing’ the pants correctly, everyone would see everything I was packing. It was the most humiliating thing I could think to wear.No, wait. There was one other thing that would be more humiliating – Nothing.Maybe if I explained to them? No. They were all Magi. They weren’t humiliated by anything they wore, were they? Maybe I could. More

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