SHEMALE
by Bruce Stirling

Puke and piss. That's what the vic smelled like. He or she swung naked on a rope, huge boobs, huge cock hanging down with "Who am I?" tattooed on the shaft.

"All you need is love, huh?" a passing uniform quipped.

Down the alley, somebody was playing that same song. Fuck, I hated that tune.

I cut the body down.

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