Kalam stared at Kesh.
This could go on for hours, at times. Not due to the lustrous, long red hair that, like so many cephalic ornaments of that hue, mesmerized him. Not the man's bosom, either, for while that was tempting, the knowledge that the mind above those firmly rounded cushions was akin to a an abacus placed in empty armor firmly kept his phallus infirm.
"You are not part of the mega-alliance," Kesh declared righteously, a single lock of scarlet over an angry eye.
"Yes," added Kalam, his tongue licking a loose crumb from his lower lip. "WE are the mega-alliance." He felt the approval of his weeaboo wife from over the hill, where she tended to her favorite wild unicorn. Taking courage, he finished his contribution with a threat: "And if you attack us, be sure you buy our stock before we sic the SEC on your asses."
