Kit

"So how'd it go at the ripperdoc," my choom asks, expectant. I smile. "The operation was a success," I reply. His eyes widen. My mouth opens, and the spigot for the slushee machine that now occupies most of my torso is revealed. I lean forward, inviting. Choomba walks up to me and leans his head backwards, aligning our mouths so that he can take in the slow, dripping stream of ice-cold blueberry flavor...