The women found the aroma of printer’s ink strangely attractive. It meant words and thoughts and emotions barely held in check by the ink that bound...them to the page.Heathcoate himself was the muscle behind the operation. One glance at the giant press with its central screw and plates and the long rod Master Merle inserted for additional leverage was sufficient to explain his overdeveloped shoulders and arms. Printing was man’s work. Each sheet was impressed separately, but with clever. It was called a scrotum and contained dad’s testicles and they were the little football shaped things that made his sperm. Marty reached over and wanted to touch dad’s thingy and when we were both touching it, it started to grow. Our eyes got big as we watched dad’s thingy get longer, harder and bigger around. When it stopped growing it must have been at least seven inches long. It felt so different than before. Neither Marty nor I could get our hands all the way around it. Now it looked like. More

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