Mahray sneaks into the outer grounds of DHQ (Daz Head Quarters), carefully avoiding the nekkid vickies wielding swords and motion detectors on the perimeter. He starts to scale the second wall, but is forced to temporarily withdraw as a pair of dragons fly overhead, snorting fire and gossiping about various maidens.

He quickly makes another attempt at the wall, racing forward and over, only to stumble at the top and collapse in a disheveled heap on the other side. He sticks to the ground as he slowly sneaks sideways past the stealthily stationed Stephanie. Dodging around the arbitrary alliteration, Mahray silently makes his way towards the only lit window.

Dragging a stack of Boolean cubes together and piling them up in an untidy stack, Mahray builds himself a temporary ladder. Wasting no more time, he climbs up his ladder and listens carefully to the conversation in the room above...

"The latest test results show a remarkable increase in cortisol levels," one voice says, sounding quite excited. "There is also evidence of a large increase in blood pressure in many of the test subjects."
"Are the levels high enough for extraction and use yet?" This voice, softer and yet more serious, sounds like an authority in DHQ.
"No, I don't think so. Not yet." The first speaker sounds nervous, but confident in their results.
A third person, silent until now, speaks.
"But we are close, so close... All it will take is one more push, just something to tip the balance."
"Very well," the softer speaker decides. "We will give them 'one more push', my dears."

Come visit us at RenderGods.

Ignore the shooty dog thing.

Mahray is suddenly surrounded by a boolean field and is horrified to see his body assigned a positive value. With lightning speed, a negative cylinder penetrates his chest and just as quickly, he becomes grouped by the retreating boolean field.

He raises his hands to his torso staring in disbelief at the 20.48bu hole in his body. With a wretched gasp he collapses to the ground plane.

"Bloody Mac users!" says a voice, " Always trying to do things the hard way."

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All the Woes of a World by Jonathan Icknield aka The Bryster

And in my final hours - I would cling rather to the tattooed hand of kindness - than the unblemished hand of hate...