CHAPTER FOUR
"Oliver! Oliver, you and I must talk," Myrna said in a gush as she burst in on the circus manager late that night. "You'll never believe this. But, already that little she-b***h has got her heat on--and I just left her licking Justice's ass in the center ring."
"You should have joined in, my dear." Oliver grinned lewdly at the animal whip in Myrna's hand. 'Evidently, you'll just have to start whipping the girl into shape earlier than you thought."
Oliver Oates, short, squat and blond, chuckled like a greedy fat child after three candy bars.
He was a punster when he could be but most often Myrna's whip cut his wit off short. She glared at him now.
"This is no time for bad jokes, Oliver Oates." She reprimanded the fat little man and the chuckle disappeared. "We're going to
