(Dz'isu corncepp c Brian Harp. Dz'isu chareeckers c Ken Sample. Used wif permisshun)

"Dawgone," Vicko' muttered, cuss it all t' tarnation. "It's like Kin' Kong, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells!"

Th' wall thet surroun'ed th' construckshun sight was indeed like sumpin straight off of Skull Islan'. Fif'een feet high all aroun', an' made of tight-fittin' slats wifout a sin'le peephole lop into them, th' wall had turned th' site into a vahitable fo'tress. Fo'biddin' "Keep Out" signs flanked man-high letters thet read: Contracko' -- Dz'isu Construckshun Compenny, Nooark, Noo Jersey. At least he had th' right place. But did he pow'ful be hankerin' t'take a job someplace thet needed a wall like this hyar aroun' it? Whut in tarnation were they tryin' t'keep out? Or in?

Yeah, he thunk bitterly, keep out. Like all t'other places, once they'd foun' out about him, dawgone it. No reason t'reckon this hyar one'd be enny diffrunt, but right now, it was th' only game in town, as enny fool kin plainly see. Eff'n he didn't lan' this hyar job, he'd be lookin' at a spot on a subway gratin'.

A grim-faced security guard met him at th' entrance. "Got a 'pointment, kid?"

Vicko' squared his jaw. "Vicko' Sykes. ah's hyar t'see Omar Przbrowski."

"Yo' mean Fatty." Th' guard's hoomah returned as he thoombed through his clipboard an' foun' Vicko''s name. He opened th' gate jest far inough fo' Vicko' t'squeeze through. "It's th' green trailer," he said, pointin'. "Watch yer step - it's muddy as hell, ah reckon."

Thet was odd, cuss it all t' tarnation. It hadn't rained fo' two weeks. Vicko' didn't give it t'other thunk, though, as he made his way on over th' mire, along a wooden walkway thet led up t'th' trailer. Inside he foun' who he was lookin' fo', an' who made it eemeejutly obvious whar his nickname had come fum. "Mr. Przbrowski?"

"Yeah, right hyar." Th' man behind th' desk wheezed, an' wif a Herculean effo't, managed t'stan' up long inough t'shake Vicko''s han' befo'e crashin' back into his chair. "Yer Sykes?"

"Yessuh, Suh." Vicko' sat down an' furtively wiped his han' on his jeans. This hyar muss be whar th' mud came fum, he said t'hisse'f. This hyar guy c'd make th' Saharee green jest by sweatin' on it. "ah gotcher call yessuhterday, an' ah's -"

"Yeah, yeah." Fatty mopped his brow wif a dirty han'kerchief. "Let me getcher applicashun out. Ugh! Fry mah hide! Dawgone, it's hot. Yeah, hyar we go. Sykes. Vicko'...Sykes." He hoommed thunkfully, starin' at th' paper, an' Vicko' felt a li'l knot startin' t'fo'm in his stomach. "Yo' fum Nooark origeenally?"

"No. ah's fum Pittsburgh. Only been in Nooark six months."

"Uh-huh. Yo' wawked fo'...whut is it, Taylo', down in 'Lizabeth...whuffo''d yo' leave?"

Vicko' shrugged casually. Th' knot inside him tightened, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah didn't like th' way they did business." It was th' truth, at least.

"Thet happens." Fatty kepp glancin' on over th' applicashun. "Been other places, ah see. So, yo' got a specialty?"

"ah can weld wif th' bess of them, dawgone it." Vicko' smiled cornfidently, but his unease grew when Fatty's expresshun did not change. "An', fine, ah can han'le a rivet gun, as enny fool kin plainly see. I've got a purdy broad range of experience. ah's up fo' jest about ennythin'."

"Is thet a fack?" Thar might haf been a smile hidden somewhar in thet comment.

An awkward silence insued, durin' which Fatty kepp starin' at th' paper in front of him, dawgone it. Vicko' tried not t'fidgit, an' finally he had to speak up. "Um, dawgone it...ah can han'le th' heavy equipment, too. I've done them all, ah reckon. Cat, Link-Belt, Kiewit..."

"We use Komatsu hyar."

"Oh -- sho'nuff! Fry mah hide! No sweat. ah can han'le Komatsu."

Fatty raised his haid an' looked him straight in th' eye. His mouth curled up in a smirk. Shet mah mouth! "Yo' reckon so?" he said quietly. Vicko' swallered, cuss it all t' tarnation.

"Ah, look, Mr. Przbrowski..."

"Save it," Fatty grunted an' heaved hisse'f outta his chair agin. "Lemme show yo' t'th' fo'eman, as enny fool kin plainly see." He mopped his brow agin an' waddled toward th' dore.

Vicko' stared at him, bewildered, an' then jumped up t'foller. "So, does ah git th' job?"

"We'll see whut th' fo'eman says." Wif thet he lurched down th' stairs an' onto th' wooden walkway, wif Vicko' in tow. "He's th' one yo'll be wawkin' fo', so he gits th' final say-so."

"Right." Vicko' felt th' knot unravel, ah reckon. So far it looked like they hadn't checked his references mighty closely, an' thet sueyted him jest fine.

Th' projeck was a high-rise, toppin' off at 15 sto'ies, broad at th' base an' wif a central tower. Its skeletal frame was buzzin' wif ackivity, an' hyar an' thar a shower of sparks fum a weldin' to'ch trickled down, as enny fool kin plainly see. Vicko' an' Fatty stepped off th' walkway onto drier groun' an' stopped, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Booty, ain't she?" Fatty wheezed, cuss it all t' tarnation.

"Yeah, it sho'nuff is." Vicko' looked aroun', an' reckanized sumpin was odd, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Mr. Przbr..."

"Fatty. Might as fine."

"OK. Um, Fatty, ah doesn't see much heavy equipment aroun' hyar. Is it off-site fo' some reason?"

"Nope. We got ev'rythin' we need right hyar."

"Really? Oh. Then, whar's th' Komatsu yo' menshuned?"

"He's a-comin'."

"He?"

Fatty leaned his haid back an' let out a holler. "Hey! Fry mah hide! Komatsu! Fry mah hide!"

Vicko' felt dull thud through th' groun', like someone had dropped a railroad tie fum th' third flore. Then he felt t'other, an' t'other. An' then he almost wet his pants.

A wall of mooscle filled his vishun, cobalt-blue, glissenin' in th' sun like wet leather. His gaze rose upward, follerin' a yeller swath amongst th' blue, until he was starin' almost straight up into piercin' black eyes. A bone-jarrin' voice rolled fum between menny, menny teeth. "Is this hyar th' noo guy?"

Vicko''s knees did not give way, no' did his bladder, although both came mighty close. Fatty said a few thin's thet Vicko' did not hear, as th' loomin' fo'm scrutinized him, dawgone it. "He'll does," th' behemoth said, turnin' away at last. "Start him out wif Angelo."

Vicko' watched it go, an' some seconds later he foun' his voice. "M-mah God! Fry mah hide!" he gasped, cuss it all t' tarnation. "A...a dragon! Fry mah hide!"

"Thet's Dz'isu, t'yo'." Fatty shielded his eyes an' studied th' buildin', while Vicko' watched th' monstrous shape disappear behind its base. "Thar's Angelo. Come on, he'll git yo' busted in, as enny fool kin plainly see."

Fatty started toward th' lif', then paused an' turned aroun' agin when he reckanized he warn't bein' follered, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Howdy? Hey, Sykes! Wake up! Fry mah hide!"

Vicko''s eyes focused agin, an' he staggered a moment befo'e ketchin' his balance. "Whut in tarnation in God's name did ah ...?"

"Is yo' jest gonna stan' thar all day?"

It took him a moment. "No...no. ah's a-comin'. Thank yo'."

Th' lif' carried them t'th' fourth flore, whar a dark shape emerged fum behind a curtain of sparks an' approached them, dawgone it. It doffed its gloves an' raised a viso' t'reveal a dark, hansum face. "It's a miracle!" th' man sighed, flashin' a friendly smile beneath a mussache thet was as black as his teeth were white. "Fatty come-a down fum th' mountain t'give a pore Dego his blessin'! Fry mah hide!"

"Yeah, up yourn, too. Angelo, this hyar is Vicko' Sykes, jest off th' street this hyar mo'nin'. Give him th' nickel tour an' then send him back t' th' office at lunchtime t'do th' paperwawk an' shit." He turned an' waddled onto th' lif'. "An' give him some a six pack o' sumpin."

Angelo waved as Fatty sank outta sight an' turned his attenshun back t'Vicko'. His brow furrowed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Oh, no, yo' doesn't look-a so fine! Fry mah hide! Here, yo' set down, as enny fool kin plainly see." He guided Vicko' t'a chair, an' af'er a furtive look aroun', he tugged a hip flax fum his pocket an' pressed it into Vicko''s han'. "Here, take a swig, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! ah know, ah feel-a th' same way when ah fust see th' bost, eh? Yo' set a spell, an' then we talk. Shet mah mouth!"

Vicko' nodded an' took a long, grateful pull fum th' flax. Th' liquid burned its way into his belly an' warmed th' shivah outta his limbs. "Thanks. Do they allus let yo' six pack on th' job?"

"Eh! Fry mah hide! Li'l sip hyar, li'l sip thar. Do yer job fine, doesn't fall offa th' buildin', an' nobody git upset." He sat down beside Vicko' an' draped a han' on his sh'der. "Yo' lookin' better now -- give-a back. Shet mah mouth! So! Fry mah hide! Whut in tarnationta yo' reckon of our bost, eh?"

Vicko' scooted his fingers through his hair an' closed his eyes, tryin' t'shake th' image of th' blue titan fum his mind, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Whut in tarnation the...whut th' hell is he?"

"He's Dz'isu. Komatsu, he's called, cuss it all t' tarnation. Like-a th' name? Good name fo' in this hyar business eh?" He laughed brightly an' rubbed Vicko''s sh'der. "When ah fust-a sar him, ah thunk, "It's th' Devil hisse'f, he'p me, Maria! Fry mah hide! ah thunk-a he was gonna ett me up like a Italian sausage. Ha ha! Fry mah hide! But ah tell-a yo' this, mah friend, thet af'er ah git t' knows him, ah w'dn't-a wawk fo' ennybody else now. Komatsu, he takes-a fine care of his men, believe me." He turned his haid, starin' off into th' distance, an' Vicko' sar a gleam in his dark eyes. "Oh yessuh, mah friend," he said quietly, "he takes-a fine care of us!" Suddenly he jumped t'his feet. "OK, now come-a see our growin' baby, eh?"

Vicko' nodded an' follered, cuss it all t' tarnation. He knowed his way aroun' a cornstruckshun site, so he only ha'f-lissened as Angelo guided him aroun' an' intrydooced him t'th' crew. They were a yo'thful bunch, all of them, wif backgroun's as varied as th' streets of Nooark itse'f. Thar were a lot of Po'tuguese men, a few Italians, a feller wif an Irish fust name an' a Spanish last name...but Vicko' was havin' trouble keepin' his mind focused, cuss it all t' tarnation. Havin' see whut he still warn't sho'nuff he pow'ful sar, he was havin' trouble cornvincin' hisse'f thet he was even awake.

At last, Angelo took him down once mo'e t'th' trailer - "Watch-a th' mud; we hadda li'l spill, ah reckon." - an' lef' him wif Fatty, who had all th' paperwawk ready fo' him, dawgone it.

"OK, Mr. Sykes, thet thar's yer hourly rate, an' yer bennies har, insurance, stan'ard stuff. Yer on eight t'six, startin' t'morry. Payday's th' fust an' fif'eenth. Enny quesshuns?"

Vicko' was peerin' out th' window. His eyes widened as th' sunlight suddenly vanished behind a blue mountain, which passed rapidly by th' window, trailin' a long, serpentine tail behind, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Yeah," he whispered, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Thet Komatsu...is he real?"

"Whut in tarnation kind of quesshun is thet? Of course he's real, ah reckon." Fatty clapped a pen down on th' table. "Come on, we is busy hyar. Is yo' in o' out?"

Vicko' turned numbly an' stared at th' paperwawk sprawled on th' desk, an' then picked up th' pen, as enny fool kin plainly see. Angelo's wo'ds, an' mo'eso th' almost revahent tone in which he'd said them, kepp echoin' through his haid. Komatsu takes fine care of his men, as enny fool kin plainly see.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "ah's in, as enny fool kin plainly see." ----------

Even though he hadn't much money lef', Vicko' decide t'stop at th' bar on his way back t'his cramped apartment on t'other side of town, as enny fool kin plainly see. It was necessary fo' his sanity, he figgerd Angelo's hip flax had been a welcome reprieve, but it hadn't been inough. Only af'er a few stiff six packs c'd he fo'm a clear pitcher in his mind of whut he had see thet af'ernoon, as enny fool kin plainly see.

Th' creature - Komatsu - was huge. Thar was no other way t' dexcribe him, dawgone it. He stood at least twelve feet tall on two legs, etch as trimenjus aroun' as a 50-gallon drum, an' packed wif mooscle fum haid t'toe. "Blue," he blurted out t'th' bartenner. "Blue all on over, 'cept his chess -- it was yeller. An' mah God, ah was...ah came up t'his waist! Fry mah hide! His face...it was like lookin' up at a dinosaur, man, as enny fool kin plainly see."

Th' bartenner smiled sympathetically. "Thet's inough fo' yo'," he said, cuss it all t' tarnation. "I'll call yo' a cab. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker."

Mo'e details came back t'Vicko' as th' night wo'e on an' th' shock wo'e off, sech as th' fack thet Komatsu had been carryin' a steel girder acrost one sh'der as though it were a baseball bat. Thet sheer amount of power in a livin' bein' was impostible t'believe, an' yet he'd see it wif his own eyes. Eff'n he didn't need this hyar job so badly, he'd haf run screamin' in t'other direckshun, right through thet trimenjus wall, ah reckon.

It took a long time fo' Vicko' t'fall asleep thet night. Fo' menny hours he lay in th' darkness, starin' upward, up past a massive reppilian chest, at alien eyes thet stared back at him fum far, far above.

When mo'nin' came Vicko' went into wawk early, th' shock havin' given way t'intense curiosity. He was hopin' fo' th' chance t'git a closer look at his noo fo'eman, but Angelo met him at th' gate an' dragged him quickly t'th' fourth flore. "No time!" he said when Vicko' protested, cuss it all t' tarnation. "We got-a weldin' t'do, an' we is behind, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah tell-a yo' ennythin' yo' wanna know, but we git started fust, eh?"

When th' fust burn was done an' th' metal was slowly right finein', Angelo gave Vicko' a mo'e detailed o'ientashun. "Yo' see-a thet trimenjus clock down th' street, by th' horspital, way down thar? We git a a six pack bust onna hour, an' lunch at noon, as enny fool kin plainly see. An' at two..." Hyar he grinned broadly an' swatted Vicko' on th' back. Shet mah mouth! "...at two, mah friend, we git-a th' fif'een minute bust! Fry mah hide! Bess part-a th' job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker."

"Whut in tarnation's so great about it?"

Angelo was still grinnin'. "Oh, yo'll find out, eh? Now, th' wall down thar? It keeps-a th' varmints fum lookin' in, as enny fool kin plainly see. When we fust start, thar's-a so menny varmints lookin' in at Komatsu, they make a road block. Shet mah mouth! Th' city makes us put-a th' wall up. so no mo'e traffic jam, dawgone it. Lotta varmints now doesn't-a even believe he exist."

Vicko' nodded, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah can unnerstan' thet. ah still kin't believe it. Whar'd they find sumpin like him?"

"Dz'isu, yo' mean? ah dunno. Mebbe he comes-a fum unner th' sea. Mebbe Detroit. All ah knows is he's a fine bost, an' he knows-a th' construckshun business like crazy. He loves his men, too, an' he takes-a fine care of us."

"So yo' told me. Whar is he now? I've been wantin' t'see him agin. ah guess ah won't be able t'convince mahse'f he's real until ah do."

"Oh, he's-a real! Fry mah hide! An' he's-a in wif th' blueprints today. Th' buyer, he's makin' changes agin. Pisses us all off, but whutta yo' gonna does, eh? Hey hey, back t'wawk now. Gotta ketch up, eh?"

Vicko' nodded, an' tugged his max back down an' re-lit his to'ch.

Th' af'ernoon wo'e on, an' still he caught no sight of th' mahsterious Dz'isu, At last, th' clock tower down th' road struck two o'clock, an' even befo'e th' echoes had faded, a call came up fum one of th' men on th' second flore. "Hey, Angelo! Fry mah hide! Yer up, Buddy! Fry mah hide!"

Angelo's face lit up. His weldin' max an' gloves hit th' flore, an' he was off an' runnin' fo' th' lif'. "Hey! Fry mah hide!" Vicko' shouted af'er him, "Whut in tarnation th' hell?"

"Fif'een minute bust! Fry mah hide!" Angelo jumped onto th' lif' an' was gone fum sight.

Confoozed, Vicko' hurried t'th' rail an' peered downward, cuss it all t' tarnation. He sar Angelo racin' acrost th' lot, toward a fenced-in reckangle nestled between two sto'age sheds. "Oh, so thass it," he said wif a smirk. Shet mah mouth! "ah guess thass whar Angelo an' his li'l flax spend their fif'een minutes." Turnin' away, he stretched out on a spool of wire t'relax, an' wait fo' his friend's return, as enny fool kin plainly see.

It was a mo'e than fif'een minutes befo'e Angelo came back, an' Vicko' was gittin' wo'ried, cuss it all t' tarnation. His fears were cornfirmed when Angelo finally reappeared, steppin' off th' lif' an' staggerin'. "Oh, mah," he said, starin' off into space an' smilin' beatifically. "Oh, mah...Oh, Maria! Fry mah hide!"

Vicko' quickly scooted ovah t'him an' took his arm, dawgone it. "Yo' stoopid wop! Fry mah hide!," he hissed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Whut in tarnation th' hell is yo' doin' gittin' drunk on th' job?"

Angelo laughed loudly an' shook his haid. "No no no, mah friend, cuss it all t' tarnation. See? Mah li'l-a flax is still full, ah reckon."

Vicko' frowned, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Whut in tarnation'd yo' does, then? Is yo' high?"

"No! Fry mah hide! Nevah touch-a th' drugs, not evah."

"Wal, whut's got into yo', then?"

Angelo turned t'him an' gave him a warm smile. "Fif'een minute bust, mah friend," he said happily. "Bess part-a th' job! Fry mah hide!" Wif thet, he picked up his max an' to'ch, an' was back t'wawk, leavin' Vicko' starin' af'er him in cornfushun.

Komatsu was nowhar t'be see fo' th' remainner of th' day, an' by th' next mo'nin', when he still sar no sign of th' elusive blue giant, Vicko' began t'feel thet th' crew had played a joke on him, dawgone it. It annoyed him at fust, mo'e than ennythin' on account o' they'd been able t'git him so wawked up, but he shrugged it off af'er a spell. He was th' noo guy, af'er all, an' th' fellers were boun' t'be hankerin' t'have a li'l fun wif him, dawgone it. So be it. So long as he had a job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker.

So he kepp reckonin', until he an' Angelo finished th' last of their assigned welds on th' fourth flore, an' he took off his max t' find Komatsu crouched beside him, dawgone it.

He almost fainted, cuss it all t' tarnation. Th' giant was restin' on one knee in whut were to him th' cramped cornfines of th' wawk area. A long, pink tongue was curled thunkfully up on over his snout, an' them dark, bottomless eyes were fixed on th' welds they had jest completed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Good job," Komatsu said, his voice resonatin' through th' surroun'in' girders. "A mighty fine job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. ah knowed yo'd wawk out." Th' frightful gaze shif'ed t' Vicko''s face. "So how is yo' gittin' along wif Angelo? Yo' two seem to make a purdy fine team, dawgone it."

"Buh..." was all Vicko' c'd say.

Angelo hid a snicker behind his han', an' Komatsu smiled, cuss it all t' tarnation. A mammoth han' retched out an' closed aroun' Vicko''s upper hide, thoomb in th' center of his chest, taloned fingers at his back. Shet mah mouth! Th' grip was juntle, an almost tenner embrace. "Relax," he whispered, in a voice thet was surprisin'ly sof'. "ah's not a-gonna bite yo'. ah's jest a builder, like yo'."

Th' tone of th' giant's voice was soothin', an' sumpin in th' touch seemed t'draw th' tenshun outta Vicko''s hide. He finally was able t'speak. Shet mah mouth! "So'ry," he said, a li'l shakily. "I've jest...nevah see a Dz'isu befo'e."

"Unnerstan'able. Thar's not menny of us aroun' hyar."

"ah guess not." Vicko' foun' hisse'f starin' into Komatsu's eyes. They were not at all th' eyes of a dragon, as enny fool kin plainly see. They were warm an' pleasant, their gaze as smooth as silk. Shet mah mouth! He was beginnin' t'feel warm all on over, he reckanized, cuss it all t' tarnation. It made him a li'l light-haided, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Komatsu smiled an' let hoof it of Vicko', an' rested his fo'earm casually acrost his knee. "We'll git used t'etch other. In th' meantime, ah's hankerin' yo' an' Angelo up on fif'een this hyar af'ernoon t'give Carstairs a bust. We is cappin' it t'morry, an' ah's hankerin' ev'rythin' ready t'go on schedule."

"Yo' got it, Bost," Angelo said, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Komatsu rose t'his feet an' stooped awkwardly beneath th' low ceilin'. He retched down an' gave Angelo's haid a playful ruffle, an' then made his way t'th' edge of th' flore. Vicko' stared in surprise as a pair of win's suddenly unfurled fum th' trimenjus Dz'isu's back as he sprang fo'ward, cuss it all t' tarnation. Vicko' raced t'th' edge in time t'see Komatsu glide down t'a solid lan'in' on both feet, th' massive win's snappin' smartly closed behind him, dawgone it. "Holy Jesus."

"Eh, he's jest-a showin' off! Fry mah hide!" Angelo strolled up behind him, dawgone it.

"But th' win's. How th' hell didn't ah notice them befo'e?"

Angelo laughed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Nobody does. Yer too busy lookin' at-a th' ress of him! Fry mah hide! Now, yo' heard-a th' bost. Up we go! Fry mah hide!"

Vicko' allered hisse'f t'be pulled onto th' lif', an' he watched through th' fo'ess of girders as Komatsu strode off, tail follerin' behind him in its own sinuous track. Shet mah mouth! He c'd still feel th' Dz'isu's touch, an' th' warmth thet had flooded his system in its wake did not begin t'fade until Komatsu was fine outta his sight.

Th' fif'eenth flore, th' topmost one in th' buildin', was li'l mo'e than a maze of planks among a fo'ess of girders thet retched up into th' sky like metal fingers. By "capped", Komatsu meant thet th' trimenjus I-beams thet'd suppo't th' roof'd be mounted in place t'morry. It was a tedious process, requirin' a large crane t'hef' th' massive beams into place one at a time, an' an armah of min to secure them, dawgone it. To Vicko', it seemed on overly oppimistic t'plan t'have th' entire operashun done in a sin'le day, but Angelo scoffed at him, dawgone it. "This hyar is Dz'isu Construckshun Co. We does th' impostible. Yo' jest-a watch us."

Th' two foun' themselves alone on th' flore af'er lunch, an' set about puttin' togither a mo'e solid flore t'suppo't th' armah of riveters thet'd be thar th' next day. As bust time neared, Angelo stood an' mopped his brow. "ah's-a gonna git a Coky Cola. Yer hankerin' one too, Vicko'?"

Fum th' co'ner of his eye, Vicko' caught sight of a dark blue fo'm movin' in th' shadows far below. "Nah, ah's all right. ah's jest a-gonna hang out up hyar an' wawk on mah suntan, as enny fool kin plainly see."

Th' clock tower chimed 2:00, an' Angelo nodded, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Sho'nuff, sho'nuff. Don't git too dark - varmints reckon-a yer Italian! Fry mah hide!" He chuckled an' slid down th' ladder, an' outta sight.

Vicko' watched him go, an' then took a seat on a plank an' scanned th' compoun' below him, dawgone it. It didn't take him long t'locut Komatsu, whose blue an' yeller hide stood out like a neon sign fum Vicko''s high vantage point. Th' trimenjus Dz'isu was sprawled out on his back inside th' same fenced-in inclosure thet Angelo had sneaked into th' previous day. It was obviously a popular li'l hidin' spot, hidden fum all pryin' eyes save fo' them high inough t'peek on over th' fence...

Vicko''s breath caught an' he felt his cheeks flush. Carstairs was in thar, too. Carstairs, whose bright red hair flagged him fum a distance almost as fine as Komatsu's hide, was naked, his pale Irish hide clashin' sharply wif th' deep blue arms thet rose t'enfold him, dawgone it. Vicko' stared fixedly as th' yo'ng man was surroun'ed in th' gigannic embrace, an' as Carstairs squirmed, rollin' t'th' side, Vicko' caught a brief glimpse of a massive ereckshun as it len'thened swif'ly along Komatsu's belly. Carstairs rolled atop it then an' began t'pump rhythmically.

"This hyar cain't be happenin'," Vicko' breathed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Komatsu's han's folded on over Carstairs's back, an' his tail arced upward t'lay its broad spade-tip on over th' yo'ng man's booty, ha'f-obscurin' Carstairs fum view. It was obvious whut was happenin', though, th' pleasure on th' Dz'isu's face obvious even fum th' fif'eenth flore. Vicko' c'd only gawk, cappivated by th' bizarre scene. Th' moshuns of Komatsu's tiny lovah soon grew mo'e pronounced, an' th' giant hisse'f was growin' visibly mo'e excited, his legs beginnin' t'jerk, th' claws of his toes scrapin' at th' wooden fence. Suddenly he flashed ev'ry one of his huge teeth, an' fum unner Carstairs's haid a white jet shot fo'th, lan'in' in a thin line along Komatsu's chest. Carstairs's fiery red hair began t' grow mo'e indistinck, slowly disappearin' as it became surroun'ed by an evah-expan'in' circle of whiteness. Vicko' sar th' massive hide relax, haid fallin' back, eyes openin' an' starin' up at th' sky, an' seemin' to fix direckly on him, dawgone it.

"ah gotta Coky Cola fo' yo' ennyway."

Vicko' almost leaped off th' plank when Angelo suddenly spoke up behind him, dawgone it. "Oh, Jesus shit! Fry mah hide! Don't does thet! Fry mah hide!"

"Whut in tarnation, ah scare yo'?" Angelo leaned on over Vicko''s sh'der an' peered downward, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Oh, oh, ah see! Yo' find-a th' bust room, dawgone it. It's OK, th' bost don't mind eff'n-a yo' watch. Th' fence, thass jest so th' public doesn't-a git -"

"Angelo! Fry mah hide!"

"Whut in tarnation?"

Vicko' stared at his friend, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Thet...he jest...him an' Carstairs..."

"So?"

"So? He's not even, as enny fool kin plainly see...ah mean, how c'd he..." Th' realizashun suddenly struck him like a lightnin' bolt. "Oh, Jesus. Yestiddy, bust time, when yo'...?"

Angelo threw his haid back an' laughed so hard it brought tears t' his eyes. "Heehee! Oh., ah sh'd-a told yo'. Hyar, take-a yer Coky Cola, mah friend, an' set down, as enny fool kin plainly see. Seems yo' got a lot t'larn about-a Dz'isu."

Takin' th' Coky Cola in a numb han', Vicko' turned his attenshun back to th' fantastic scene below. Carstairs was kneelin' on Komatsu's chess now, leanin' back aginst th' trimenjus spade-tipped tail, ah reckon. Komatsu's muzzle was in his crotch, tongue flickin' rapidly in an' out. Even fum this hyar distance, Carstairs' face looked like he was in Hevvin.

"Ennyway," Angelo corntinued, "Fo' a Dz'isu, it's-a like breathin'. They like t'have sex, mo'eso than yo'n me. Probably, he'd have-a six o' seven busts a day, but then no wawk'd git done, eh? Somma guys doesn't wanna, an' he don't ax. Most of us, though, we feel-a we owe it, on account o' he's-a so fine a bost. Now, mebbe yo' not into thet stuff - thass OK. But me, ah tell-a yo', ah cain't git inough. Mebbe ah's a Dz'isu stuck inna Italian hide, eh?"

Vicko' shook his haid, still watchin' below. Komatsu had carefully cleaned Carstairs off wif his tongue, an' was now lickin' hisse'f clean while Carstairs squirmed back into his clothin'. Th' clock down th' street read 2:15.

"Hey! Fry mah hide! Yo' lissenin'?" Angelo tapped his sh'der.

"Huh? Yeah. ah jest kin't believe it. It's like steppin' into t'other wo'ld, cuss it all t' tarnation. ah mean, ah got fired fum mah last job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker..."

"On account o'-a yer gay." He waved his han' when Vicko' jerked his haid up. "Oh, doesn't gimme thet look. Shet mah mouth! ah knowed alla time. It's probably one-a th' thin's gotcha hired, cuss it all t' tarnation."

Vicko' gaped, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Yo' mean, as enny fool kin plainly see...?"

"Oh, no, not-a like thet. Eff'n yer no fine at buildin', he'd nevah-a take yo'. He like-a t'hire min who're th' bess wawkers, but cain't-a git wawk on account o'-a shifead bostes, like one ah used t'wawk fo'." He muttered a few thin's unner his breath in Italian thet probably were not mighty nice. "Thet stuff down thar, thass-a jest play. He won't touch yo' 'less yo' say he kin. He got his guys thet he know-a like t'do it, an' t'others, fine, they git-a paid jest as much. He's a fine-a bost, ah told yo'."

"Yeah...yo' told me." Vicko' swiped at his fo'ehaid wif th' back of his fo'earm, an' watched as Komatsu an' Carstairs crosted th' lot an' disappeared beneath th' base of th' struckure. He was quiet fo' sevahal minutes. "Angelo," he said at last, hesitantly, "How'd I...?"

"Yo' talk-a t'him, dawgone it." Angelo gave his sh'der a squeeze. "But later. Right now, we got-a wawk t'do! Fry mah hide! He'll still be thar on th' next bust. Come on, now."

Th' two wawked in silence fo' th' next hour, as th' wooden flore grew an' took shape aroun' them, dawgone it. Angelo kepp glancin' on over at Vicko' an' smilin'; Vicko' smiled back, weakly, a li'l embarrassed an' still incredulous. Eventually, Angelo straightened up an' cracked his back. Shet mah mouth! "Maria! Fry mah hide! ah reckon ah's-a gittin' old, cuss it all t' tarnation." He wan'ered on over t'th' edge of th' platfo'm an' leaned on over. "Hey! Fry mah hide! Komatsu! Fry mah hide! Yo' come-a up fif'een, eh?"

Vicko' jumped t'his feet. "Wait, Angelo! Fry mah hide!"

"Wait? Wait fo' whut? ah thunk yo' wanna talk wif him, dawgone it."

"ah doesn't knows if ah's ready, though."

Angelo chuckled, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Yo'-a ready as yo'll evah be."

Thar was a soun' like laundry hung on a line makes on a windy day. A breeze blew on over th' platfo'm, an' grew t'a gale as Komatsu rose majestically on over th' edge of th' buildin', monstrous win's beatin' in pow'ful strokes behind him, dawgone it. He stretched a leg out an' seized th' edge of th' platfo'm in his strong toes, an' pulled hisse'f onto it, win's snappin' into neat folds behind him, dawgone it. "Whut in tarnation's up, Angelo?"

Angelo smiled, an' turned an' looked pointedly at Vicko'. "ah's-a gonna git me t'other Coky Cola," he said simply. Wifout t'other wo'd he strolled on over t'th' ladder an' slid down outta sight, leavin' Vicko' alone wif th' giant.

Komatsu merely stood speckantly, watchin' Vicko' wif a bemoosed expresshun. Vicko' stared he'plessly af'er Angelo, an' then turned t' face th' Dz'isu. "Good af'ernoon, Mr. Komatsu."

"Jest Komatsu."

"Komatsu. I...ah, was wonnerin' sumpin."

"Whut in tarnation'd thet be?"

Th' voice was low an' melodious, like a bass violin, as enny fool kin plainly see. Its hoommin' c'd be felt through th' boards thet Vicko' was stan'in' on, as enny fool kin plainly see. He felt th' same warmth returnin' t'his hide, as though Komatsu's eyes gave off some so't of heat ray. It made him fidgit like a skoofella in th' principal's office. "ah c'dn't he'p, ah, watchin', durin' th' bust, when yo' were...um, dawgone it...down thar."

"Yessuh. ah sar yo'."

Dawgone him, Vicko' thunk, he's injoyin' this. He lost his nerve. "Whut in tarnation ah mean is, ah jest met yo', yo' see. ah pow'ful doesn't knows much about yo', an' ah thunk, mebbe, sometime, ah might, yo' know, git t' talk. Shet mah mouth!" Th' heat was risin' in his hide.

Komatsu chuckled, cuss it all t' tarnation. He retched down an' brushed th' smooth curve of a claw along Vicko''s cheek. Shet mah mouth! Th' warmth seemed t'foller it, rushin' into his haid an' makin' him dizzy. "I'd be happy to," th' deep-toned voice murmured, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Yo' kin come by mah place sometime af'er wawk. I'll let yo' knows when ah's free." Wif thet he turned, stretched his vast win's, an' stepped off th' edge of th' buildin'. Th' last thin' Vicko' sar was th' long tail snakin' downward, th' spaded tip seemin' t'wave to him befo'e it vanished, cuss it all t' tarnation.

"ah love-a thet tail-thin' he does," Angelo's voice said behind him, dawgone it. "ah reckon he likes yo'. Thet touch wif-a th' claw, thass a friendly thin'."

Vicko' jest kepp starin' on over th' edge of th' buildin'. Angelo's wo'ds faded aroun' him, dawgone it. "He's trimenjus," was all Vicko' c'd say.

"Oh, yo' reckon so?" Angelo slapped th' han'le of a hammer into Vicko''s han', joltin' him back t'awareness. "Yo' jest-a wait until t'morry."

"Whuffo'? Whut in tarnation's t'morry?"

Angelo only laughed, cuss it all t' tarnation. ----------

Vicko' was early fo' wawk agin th' next day, an' foun' thet most of th' crew had already arrived, cuss it all t' tarnation. He joined them near th' base of th' buildin', whar two massive stacks of I-beams rested, an' he'ped hisse'f to some a six pack fum th' urn, as enny fool kin plainly see. "Whar's th' crane?" he axed, cuss it all t' tarnation.

A rumble of laughter went up fum th' group. A few min nudged etch other an' exchanged knowin' glances. Vicko' felt a li'l awkward, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Yo' know...th' crane?"

"Don't need no Cat," one man said wif a wry grin, "when yo' got a Komatsu! Fry mah hide!"

Th' men laughed agin, an' Vicko' shrugged it off. He figgerd thet he'd find out sooner o' later, an' fum whut he'd see of this hyar compenny, he might as fine not even try t'annicipate whut th' answer was a-gonna be.

Komatsu arrived a few minutes later. Th' crowd of min parted respeckfully as he strode into their midst. "Good mo'nin'! Fry mah hide!" he boomed cheerfully. "We've got a long day ahaid of us, so less not waste time. ah's hankerin' yo' all t'remember yer stan'ard safety precaushuns, an' in particular, nobody goes inside th' yeller tape, fo' enny reason, as enny fool kin plainly see. Ennyone who be hankerin' t'be on th' sixth flore at two o'clock is welcome, but less do whut we kin t'avoid t'other flood, hm?"

Th' men laughed heartily, an' Komatsu snapped his clawed fingers. Th' crowd melted back away fum him; Vicko' follered, perplexed, an' stared as Carstairs an' t'other wawker roped off a huge reckangular area, ha'f th' size of a football field, aroun' th' Dz'isu. "Thar's a-gonna be a lot mo'e rubberneckers thet we had last time," Komatsu continued, "an' I've already made mah apologies t'th' City Pappys. Less try t'be fine neighbo's an' git thin's done as quickly as we can, as enny fool kin plainly see."

Vicko' foun' Angelo in th' crowd an' tugged his sleeve. "Whut in tarnation's he talkin' about?"

"Jest watch," Angelo replied, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Komatsu turned aroun' in a slow circle, inspeckin' th' emppy terrain aroun' him, dawgone it. "All clear! Fry mah hide!" he bellered, an' turned t'face th' buildin'. Vicko''d nevah be sho'nuff eff'n whut happened next had been instantaneous, o' whether his stunned mind had simply failed t'reco'd th' ackshun. One moment he was watchin' Komatsu; th' next he was starin' at a foot, wif talons th' size of refrigerato's diggin' into th' earth ahaid of him, dawgone it. A pow'ful leg rose above it, mooscles flexin' as th' weight of th' immense hide shif'ed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Vicko' nearly fell back as his gaze traveled upward, his eyes widenin'. "Fuck. Shet mah mouth!..."

"Thar's yer crane," one of th' men snickered, as th' crowd dispersed an' haided fo' th' lif's.

Vicko' stood transfixed, th' sight of th' towerin' blue giant freezin' him t'th' spot. He felt he'pless, vulnerable, an' barely reckanized thet Angelo was pullin' at his shirt. "Hey, come on, as enny fool kin plainly see. Yo' an' me's onna fif'h flore today."

Still Vicko' didn't move. Sighin', Angelo took his arm an' dragged him bodily outta Komatsu's shadow. "Come on, come on, as enny fool kin plainly see. Yo' still git-a nice view fum th' fif'h! Fry mah hide!"

Befo'e he reckanized it, Vicko' was on th' fif'h flore, an' a nail gun was bein' pressed into his han'. He foun' thet he c'dn't tear his eyes off th' mammoth blue thigh as it rocked an' flexed near th' edge of th' flore, an' finally Angelo sighed an' gave him a li'l nudge. "Yer no fine like this. Git on, take a fine long look, git-a yer eyes filled, an' then come back an' gimme a han', eh?"

Vicko' shuffled slowly t'th' edge of th' flore an' stood tremblin'. Th' massive leg filled his view, mooscles ripplin' fluidly unner th' smooth cobalt flesh. Th' sight was awe-inspirin', an' infinitely right purdy. Slowly he raised his eyes, gu'pin' at th' sight of th' huge bulge in th' front of th' black briefs thet Komatsu wo'e, an' which had grown along wif him, dawgone it. They obviously were not wo'n fo' modesty, as th' contours behind th' briefs were clearly outlined in gigannic detail, ah reckon. Vicko' felt his heart poun'in', an' retched out a numbed han' t'touch.

A metallic clatter fum below jolted him an' he stepped back fum th' edge. Komatsu's tail had swung aroun', an' th' trimenjus triangle at its tip threst its way unner one of th' stacks of beams. They rolled loudly onto it, an' it curled aroun' them like a fist, haulin' th' entire stack into th' air an' up past Vicko''s field of view. "Shit," he breathed, "thet muss be a hundred tons."

"Yeah, he's-a sumpin else, eh?" Angelo said, steppin' up behind him, dawgone it. "Yo' see inough?"

Vicko' shook his haid. "ah doesn't reckon ah evah will, ah reckon."

"Haha! Fry mah hide! ah knows how yo' feel! Fry mah hide! But we gotta git this hyar wall put up har, right? Yer noo onna job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. Yo' doesn't want-a yer noo bost t' reckon yer lazy as a houn'dog, eh?" He tugged at Vicko''s shirt.

Reluckantly, Vicko' backed away fum th' edge, although his gaze lingered on th' huge, magnificent thigh fo' sevahal long moments. "How th' hell is this hyar postible?" he moaned, cuss it all t' tarnation.

"It's easy. Yo' use-a th' nail gun, see? Hold th' board up, like-a this, an' -"

Vicko' growled an' smacked th' top of Angelo's haid. "Not thet, dummah! Fry mah hide! THAT! Fry mah hide! Komatsu! Fry mah hide! How c'd he grow like thet?"

Angelo rubbed his haid. "Oh, thet! Fry mah hide! ah dunno. It's a Dz'isu thin'. ah ax-a him once, an' he says thet, 'It's a Dz'isu thin'.'"

"Jedt." Vicko' picked up th' nail gun an' tried t'keep his eyes off of Komatsu's leg, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Thar was a rattle fum above as th' rivet guns started t'wawk on th' fust beam, dawgone it. Vicko' c'd imagine Komatsu holdin' it in place, effo'tlessly, as though it were a piece of an erecko' set.

Erecko' set. He shivahed at th' thunk an' glanced down, an' reckanized thet he was. Mighty.

"Nails," Angelo reminded him, dawgone it. "Boards, nails, wall gits-a done."

Vicko' grumbled an' set t'wawk. Even on over th' chatterin' of th' rivet guns an' th' whine of Angelo's circular sar, he c'd hear th' soun' of car ho'ns blarin' all aroun' th' site. Th' site of th' gigannic Dz'isu wawkin' beside th' buildin' muss haf brought ha'f th' city out, he thunk. ah wonner eff'n enny of them is feelin' th' way ah's?

Probably a lot of them, dawgone it.

Komatsu wawked through th' mo'nin' a six pack busts an' through lunch. Angelo explained t'Vicko' thet whutevah th' bost had done t' make hisse'f grow was hard on him, an' once he was trimenjus, he had t'stay thet way until he finished th' job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. It was simply too drainin' fo' him to hoof it up an' down on over an' on over. A sudden thunk struck Vicko', an' sent chills through him, dawgone it. "Angelo," he said appreehensively. "Whut in tarnation's a-gonna happen at 2:00?"

"Same as ev'ry day," Angelo said, an' flashed him an eager grin, as enny fool kin plainly see. "'cepp its-a gonna take a lot mo'e of us."

"But...how?"

Angelo gave him a wink. Shet mah mouth! "Thet's a fine quesshun, mah friend, cuss it all t' tarnation." He leaned in close. "Yo' come up t'six wif me then, an' mebbe yo' find out, eh?" He squeezed th' trigger on th' sar, an' th' piercin' whine drowned out th' ress of Vicko''s quesshuns.

Th' level of tenshun in th' atmosphar of th' site increased steadily af'er lunch. It was not a negative tenshun, th' so't thet comes wif fo'ebodin' an' stress. This hyar was mo'e like annicipashun. Ev'ry man wawked a li'l faster, a bit mo'e eagerly, as eff'n tryin' t' push time along by finishin' etch job mo'e quickly. Even th' crowd outside th' wall seemed t'feel it, their ranks havin' swollen further on account o' th' mo'nin' rush. Vicko' was beginnin' t'feel thet thar was a great secret thet th' whole wo'ld knowed, save fo' him, dawgone it. Only Komatsu seemed unaffecked, an' kepp on wawkin' at his tireless pace, hef'in' th' girders t'th' top flore an' holdin' them steady while th' rivet guns clattered away.

Vicko' was busy firin' nails into a plywood panel when Angelo swepp up behind him an' flipped th' power switch on th' nail gun, as enny fool kin plainly see. "Less-a go! Fry mah hide!"

"Whut in tarnation? Is it time?"

"Close inough. Come on, as enny fool kin plainly see."

Angelo was obviously excited, an' Vicko' didn't ax enny quesshun as he follered his friend t'th' lif' an' rode up t'th' next flore. A large number of min had already gathard fum above, an' were busily unrollin' a wide blue tarp acrost th' flore. Vicko' watched as they strung ropes through th' edges an' hoisted them up t'th' ceilin', fo'min' a barrier aroun' three sides of th' buildin'.

"We is gonna try not t'have t'other flood," Angelo said, an' nudged him in th' ribs.

Th' fourth edge of th' tarp was allered t'ress on th' flore. Thet was on th' same side of th' buildin' whar Komatsu was stan'in'. Th' view fum hyar was, eff'n ennythin', even mo'e intriguin' than fum th' flore below, Vicko' foun'. Komatsu's hips rose t'th' level of th' ceilin'; much of th' openin' at th' end of th' flore was taken up by th' black, silken surface of his briefs, whose corntours were even mo'e impressive fum hyar than they were fum below. Vicko' stood dazed as th' men, ackin' on some unsee signal, began t'strip. Two of them scooted up an' etch slipped a crane-hook between th' Dz'isu's taut belly an' th' top of his briefs. A junerato' coughed t'life, an' th' face of th' briefs began t'winch downward, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Th' chatter of th' rivet guns grew suddenly mo'e fierce, th' soun' echoin' throughout th' struckure. Komatsu stood mighty still, his abdominal mooscles tightenin' as he took a deep breath. Th' briefs sank lower, an' Vicko' was treated t'th' sight of an inconceivably large penis, startlin'ly pink aginst th' yeller sheath fum which it protruded, cuss it all t' tarnation. Sevahal min moved fo'ward as th' monstrous o'gan flopped free an' lan'ed heavily on th' tarp, th' soun' lost among th' clamo' of th' rivet guns. Them min closess knelt an' pressed themselves aginst it, almost wo'shipfully, their faces relaxed an' blissful, ah reckon. It responded instantly, thickenin', stretchin' fo'ward along th' tarp an' allerin' mo'e of th' men t'take posishuns aroun' it.

Angelo had already shrugged outta his clo'es, an' leaned in close t'Vicko''s ear. "It's bess yo' jest-a watch th' fust time," he shouted, cuss it all t' tarnation. "It's-a not as easy as it looks!" Clappin' Vicko' on th' sh'der, he jogged fo'ward an' knelt beside th' curvin' flare of th' giant's glans.

Vicko' obeyed, not so much fum a lack of desuhe as fum utter shock at whut he was witnessin'. Mo'e than two dozen min now surroun'in' th' massive ereckshun; some even stretched atop it. Their bodies swayed an' stroked acrost its len'th in a surreal dance whose moosic was a cho'us of riveters. Th' immense o'gan dwarfed them all, pulsin' wif life, its surface slickin' wif th' thin fluid thet seeped fum its tip an' was spread on over its len'th by th' moshun of its supplicants' bodies.

A dark blue han' dexcended fum above an' gripped one of th' staunch uprights at th' co'ner of th' buildin'. Vicko' sar th' vast plain of Komatsu's belly flex an' bulge, an' th' immense o'gan drew back, an' then slid fo'ward, throwin' th' wawkmen momentarily off balance. They recovahed quickly, though, apparently annicipatin' th' movement, an' hastily reposishuned themselves. Komatsu began t'threst slowly, his ereckshun pumpin' in measured strokes through th' press of th' surroun'in' bodies. Some of th' men had even clasped their arms ovah th' top of th' shaf'. Grajoolly th' rhythm increased, th' mighty o'gan pumpin' faster, th' struckure tremblin' slightly fum th' mountin' fo'ce of th' thrests. Thin wisps of steam began t'rise fum it as th' flesh grew warmer.

Vicko' stood moshunless, an' then slowly, like a man in a dream, he shuffled fo'ward an' knelt beside th' pistonin' bulk. Shet mah mouth! He stared dumbly as th' broad glans shoved fo'th fum th' knot of bodies, an' then retreated agin, its flange bumpin' aginst limbs an' to'sos. He leaned fo'ward, smilin', an' watched closely as th' tip rushed fo'ward an' halted jest inches fum his face, th' slit at its extremity yawnin' wide an' dribblin' a trickle of clear fluid, cuss it all t' tarnation. A li'l splashed onto his face, unnoticed, cuss it all t' tarnation. He sar th' tremenjus o'gan retreat, an' then bolt fo'ward once mo'e, bumpin' his cheek, leavin' it drippin'.

Abrupply a han' seized his wrist. He resisted, tryin' t'pull his han' away, but he was yanked back fum whar he knelt, stumbled, an' fell on his side. He sat up an' turned in time t'see th' mammoth ereckshun surge fo'ward once mo'e, an' then a wide opaque column erupped fum its tip. Th' stream rocketed past him an' struck th' tarp at th' far edge of th' flore, th' fo'ce of th' impack tentin' th' plastic outward, cuss it all t' tarnation. A curtain of whiteness splashed outward in a fantastic arc fum th' point of impack. Th' stream then weakened, th' white column bendin' an' fallin', crashin' wetly onto th' tarp below. No sooner had th' quivahin' pools settled than a second bust shot past him, batterin' th' tarp outward agin. A fist-sized globule of cream flew back, splashin' Vicko' squarely in th' face, nearly sMammyin' him, dawgone it.

He coughed an' sat up, tryin' t'rub th' thick fluid fum his eyes, but t'no avail, ah reckon. Af'er a moment he felt sumpin bein' pressed insissently into his han's -- a towel, warm an' moist. Eagerly he wiped off his face, an' his vishun cleared, cuss it all t' tarnation. He sar th' men still sprawled aginst th' massive o'gan, their faces drained, pantin'. Th' Dz'isu's penis itse'f lay still, quietly throbbin', a heavy froth of cream oozin' feebly fum its tip. It was beginnin' t'shrink, although grajoolly, an' as th' men regained their stren'th one by one they began t'clean themselves off.

Angelo was stan'in' beside him, holdin' t'other towel, ah reckon. Th' rivet guns had stopped, although Vicko''s ears were still rin'in' wif their clatterin'. "Yo' OK?"

"Yeah. ah reckon so." He took th' towel gratefully.

"Yo' almost-a lost yer haid, mah friend," Angelo said, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Thet's-a mah fault. Sh'da warned yo'. A year ago, Zechariah Philips, he got in th' way of th' blast - it bust-a his arm, give-a him corncusshun. Komatsu made a rule thet nobody gits-a come on, no matter how much he be hankerin' to." "ah can imagine," Vicko' said weakly. He scrubbed some stickiness fum his ear as he watched four min hef' th' flaccid o'gan an' tuck it back inside th' Dz'isu's briefs. Th' great mooscular belly above was heavin' steadily; apparently Komatsu was still ketchin' his breath. "Do yo' hafta does this offen?"

"Not hafta, no. Yo' see enny man hyar look-a like he doesn't wanna be hyar? ah tell-a yo' befo'e, Dz'isu, they gotta haf a fine come at least ev'ry day. They gotta. Yo' reckon-a yo' git bad eff'n-a yo' hoof it two weeks wifout? Fo' these Dz'isu, one day is like-a two weeks. It's-a th' nature of th' beast." He patted Vicko''s sh'der. "An' between yo' an' me - hey, yo' miss a spot hyar - between yo' an' me, ah doesn't-a mind in th' least he'pin' him-a git rid of thet pressure!"

Vicko' shook his haid blankly. "ah guess. ah dunno. It's jest so peekoolyar."

"Eh! Fry mah hide! Now yo' talk-a like a straight fella. ah sar yo' thar. It's not-a peekoolyar. Noo, mebbe, but not-a peekoolyar. Wal, OK, mebbe a li'l. But ah give-a yo' two, mebbe three weeks, an' yo' be jest as happy t'he'p as this hyar crazy Dego."

Vicko' didn't answer. He had turned away, an' was starin' at sevahal min who had gathard befo'e Komatsu's loins. On a count of three they bent an' hef'ed th' flaccid penis up, an' tucked it into th' black silk. Shet mah mouth! Through th' fabric th' huge o'gan c'd be see retreatin' back into its sheath, an' once mo'e th' mooscular to'so was flexin' an' swayin' busily, as th' Dz'isu's tail carried t'other load of girders up an' outta sight. ----------

Th' crowd outside th' wall corntinued t'mill about an' gawk at th' giant as th' af'ernoon wo'e on, as enny fool kin plainly see. "Do yo' reckon they know?" Vicko' axed Angelo.

"Know whut?"

"Whut in tarnation Komatsu was doin' this hyar af'ernoon?"

Angelo cursed in Italian as he tugged th' blade guard off th' circular sar. "Dawgone piece of shit," he muttered, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Them out thar? Mebbe some does. It's-a hard t'tell, ah reckon. ah sar him fum outside once, bad day fo' me. He look-a jest like he stan'in' aginst th' buildin' an' talkin' to-a th' guys on twelve. ah knows better, though. Two days befo'e-a yo' show up, th' tarp fell down, as enny fool kin plainly see. We had - Maria, whut a mess! All thet mud, th' whole co'ner, oh! Fry mah hide! We tell-a th' po-licemen it's ice cream, dawgone it. We havin' a trimenjus party an' th' ice cream all melt an' git-a spilled, cuss it all t' tarnation." He laughed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "They doesn't believe us, not fo' a second, but whutta they gonna do?"

Vicko' chuckled an' gazed idly at th' mammoth thigh, which had become a majo' part of th' scenery fo' him, dawgone it. Th' mooscles rippled like ocean waves, an' occashunally th' whole leg'd shif' t'one side o' t'other. He muss be gittin' tired, Vicko' thunk. Even sumpin thet pow'ful kin't stan' in one place all day long, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Especially not af'er thet li'l wawkout he got.

He foun' his thunks turnin' t'whut it'd be like t'curl up inside them vast briefs, an' he smiled wistfully.

Behind him th' circular sar whined an' began t'bite into th' wood, cuss it all t' tarnation. Thar was a sudden sharp, metallic rin', an' sumpin whistled past his ear. Vicko' ducked instinckively an' spun aroun'. "Whut in tarnation th' fuck was thet?"

Angelo had his back t'him, an' was stan'in' mighty still, ah reckon. He didn't answer.

"Angelo?" Vicko' said, fear risin' into his voice. Th' rivet guns started t'rattle once mo'e up on fif'een, as enny fool kin plainly see.

Angelo shuddered an' slowly turned aroun'. His dirty white T- shirt was stained a unifo'm red fum chin t'waist. Vicko' c'd see an inch an' a ha'f of shinin' metal protrudin' fum th' center of Angelo's chest, an' a crimson fountain boiled up furiously aroun' it. "Oh, Maria," Angelo said hoarsely, starin' dazedly down at his chest. "Oh, Maria. Vicko'...Vicko', ah's-a fucked, mah friend, cuss it all t' tarnation..."

Vicko' caught him as he fell an' eased him down t'his back. Shet mah mouth! "Angelo! Fry mah hide! Shit -- He'p! Fry mah hide! Someone he'p! Fry mah hide!"

His cries were lost among th' noise of th' rivet guns. "Fo' God's sake, he'p! Fry mah hide!" Frannically he jammed his han' down on th' woun' as hard as he c'd, th' metal shard threstin' up between his fingers. "Oh, Jedt. Angelo, doesn't move..." "

ah's-a fucked, mah friend, cuss it all t' tarnation." Angelo's face had turned gray, an' his eyes rolled back into his haid.

"Jesus...." Vicko' looked aroun' wildly, an' his eyes fell once mo'e on th' huge blue pillar. "Komatsu! Fry mah hide!" he shrieked, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Nothin'.

"Komatsu! Fry mah hide!"

It was no use. Th' riveters simply drowned him out. In desperashun, he cast about an' caught sight of th' nail gun lyin' nearby. He tried t'retch it, but c'dn't, not wifout takin' th' pressure fum th' gushin' woun'. Sobbin' in frestrashun, Vicko' lashed out wif his leg an' managed t'ketch th' han'le of th' device wif his toe of his boot. "Hang on, Angelo, jest hang on," he cried, cuss it all t' tarnation. Draggin' th' nail gun into his han', he heaved it up fum th' flore, swung it toward Komatsu's thigh, an' squeezed th' trigger.

Th' crack of th' nail gun was follered by a startled roar thet shook th' entire struckure. Th' rivet guns ceased instantly. Th' trimenjus blue leg retreated, an' a vast expanse of yeller swepp downward, t'be replaced by Komatsu's scowlin' face.

"Angelo..! Fry mah hide!" Vicko' gasped befo'e th' Dz'isu c'd speak "Th' sar blade...he took th' guard off....he's hurt bad! Fry mah hide!"

Komatsu's eyes widened, an' t'other roar shook th' buildin'. "Fatty! Fry mah hide! Git an ambulance!"

"Thar ain't time fo' thet! Fry mah hide!" Vicko' yelled back hoarsely.

Komatsu grunted, cuss it all t' tarnation. A moment later an ino'mous han' pushed its way between th' girders at th' edge of th' flore. Vicko' had no time t' reckon of bein' frightened as th' massive fingers curled behind him an' began t'scoop both him an' Angelo toward th' edge of th' buildin'. T'other han' rose up like an elevato', brin'in' Carstairs into view. He grabbed Angelo's an' shirt an' wif Vicko''s he'p, dragged him into th' open palm, dawgone it. "Got him! Fry mah hide! Take us down! Fry mah hide!"

Vicko' stumbled a li'l as Komatsu's han' dexcended, cuss it all t' tarnation. His han' came away fum Angelo's chest. Carstairs scrambled on over an' took his place, usin' both han's t'staunch th' flow of blood, cuss it all t' tarnation. "We gotta move," he hissed through gritted teeth.

Th' han' retched th' groun' an' Vicko' stumbled off of it. "Vicko'," Komatsu rumbled, cuss it all t' tarnation. Th' voice alone was inough t'cut through th' panic an' seize th' man's attenshun. "Git into th' service truck - now! Fry mah hide!"

Wifout hesitatin', Vicko' wheeled an' raced on over t'th' trimenjus yeller pickup. He scrambled into th' drivah's seat, an' as he turned th' key, th' lan'scape dropped abrupply away. His stomach fell wif it. Turnin' his haid, he sar Komatsu's fingers graspin' th' truck aroun' th' middle, an' holdin' it alof' as easily as eff'n it were a toy. Wifin seconds th' truck was carried on over th' wall an' set down at th' rear of th' gapin' crowd, cuss it all t' tarnation. A shadow fell aroun' him, an' Vicko' looked up in ho'ro' t'see th' bottom of Komatsu's foot dexcendin' rapidly toward him, dawgone it. "Git movin'! Fry mah hide!" th' giant bellered, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Clear a path fo' me!"

Vicko' gasped an' slammed th' truck into gear. It lurched fo'ward, sendin' hysterical onlookers scatterin' in all direckshuns. Thet was th' idea. Two seconds later Komatsu's foot slammed into th' pavement whar th' truck had been sittin', th' concrete beneath it shattered wif th' impack. Th' clawed toes bent, gougin' three deep trenches an' then kickin' up great chunks of rubble as they rose agin into th' air.

Frannically, Vicko' flipped on all of th' truck's rotatin' lights an' jammed his han' down on th' ho'n, as enny fool kin plainly see. Pedestrians scrambled fo' safety, an' other vehicles squealed an' spun off t'th' side as he careened past them, dawgone it. In his rearview mirro' he c'd see th' mighty claws crashin' behind him, lan'in' heavily in th' gaps created by th' pickup's passin'. He stared fo' a moment, terrified thet he'd see some pore soul smashed flat unner one of th' poun'in' feet, an' then his attenshun was jerked t'th' road ahaid as a slow-witted moto'ist tried t'make a turn in front of him, dawgone it. Th' bumper of th' pickup clipped th' car's fenner, sendin' it spinnin'; th' opposite fenner then crashed into Komatsu's toe as it lan'ed, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Vicko' spotted th' truck's mobile phone an' grabbed it. A han'- lettered card had been taped t'back: Hosp. ER *12. He jabbed th' buttons, cursin' as th' phone rang an' rang, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells!

"Emerjuncy room, kin yo' hold?"

"NO! Fry mah hide!" he shrieked, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Git a crash team up t'th' helipad now! Fry mah hide! Yo've got one a-comin' in, as enny fool kin plainly see."

Thar was a pause. "Suh, we ain't had enny --*"

"Jest does it! Fry mah hide! Don't fuck wif me, Lady, jest git'em up thar! Fry mah hide!" Th' phone fell fum his han' an' he sarved hard as Komatsu's huge foot slammed into th' pavement beside th' truck. Shet mah mouth!

"Faster, Vicko'! Fry mah hide!" th' Dz'isu roared, an' Vicko' obeyed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Seconds later he jumped th' curb in front of th' horspital, th' truck lurchin' an' dancin' acrost th' ambulance parkin' lot befo'e turnin' sideways an' skiddin' t'a stop. Komatsu's thunnerous footfalls stopped a moment later.

Vicko' scrambled outta th' cab an' scooted toward Komatsu's foot. Th' trimenjus Dz'isu towered on over him, arms outta sight on over th' top of th' buildin'. He didn't move. Vicko' didn't, eifer. Suhens approached, growin' louder.

At last Komatsu sighed an' squatted down, his tail wavin' agitatedly behind him an' sendin' mo'e varmints fleein'. He lowered his han', whar Carstairs lay exhaested in th' middle of th' palm, dawgone it. "It's purdy bad," Carstairs panted, climbin' t'his feet. Vicko' nodded grimly.

A po-lice car squealed up beside them, an' two beefy patrolmen leaped out, sputterin' curses. Komatsu sighed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "We had an emerjuncy, officer," he rumbled, cuss it all t' tarnation. "It c'dn't be he'ped, cuss it all t' tarnation. Mah crew will start repairin' th' damage t'th' street eemeejutly, an' th' compenny's insurance ajunt will be on han' t'talk t'ennyone whose vehicles were damaged, cuss it all t' tarnation."

Th' drivah of th' patrol car didn't seem t'be lissenin'. "Yo' son of a fuckin' bitch! Fry mah hide!" he howled, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Fust all thet shit this hyar mo'nin', an' now yer tryin' t'tear th' fuckin' city apart! Fry mah hide! Whut in tarnation th' fuck is wrong wif yo'? Yo' some kinda fuckin' Godzilla, o' sumpin? Do yo' fuckin' knows how menny fuckin' varmints yo' c'd've killed?" He turned his reddened face toward Vicko'. "YOU! Fry mah hide! Fuckin' Mario An'retti, fuckin' demolishun derby! Fry mah hide! Yer no fuckin' ambulance! It's fucks like yo' thet -"

Thar was a dull thud as Komatsu's han' lan'ed between Vicko' an' th' ragin' po-liceman, fo'min' a wall, ah reckon. Komatsu's teeth were fully bared, an' his breath hissed angrily between them, dawgone it. His eyes burned, cuss it all t' tarnation. Behind him thar was a crash as his thrashin' tail knocked a garbage dumpster onto its side.

Th' po-liceman was quiet. Th' whole city was quiet.

Komatsu spoke at last. "Am ah unner arrest, Officer?" he said in slow, measured tones.

Th' po-liceman shook his haid slowly.

"Thank yo'. ah's a-gonna call in mah asphalt trucks in now, an' mah min are a-gonna repair th' road, cuss it all t' tarnation. Mah insurance ajunt will be on his way in a few minutes." Carefully he picked Carstairs up between two fingers, an' th' battered truck in his other han'. "Vicko'..."

Vicko' blinked an' looked up at him, dawgone it.

"Please stay hyar, an' call us as soon as they know."

Komatsu stood an' turned aroun' slowly, makin' sho'nuff his tail did not brush th' horspital buildin', an' slowly he walked back down th' street toward th' construckshun site.

Vicko' was awake through th' night, pacin'. He barely noticed th' other varmints in th' waitin' area. Once in a spell, some adventurous soul'd approach him an' try t'ax about Komatsu, but Vicko' made it clear wif jest a look thet he was not grantin' interviews.

It was almost twelve hours later befo'e a docko' finally appeared an' gave him th' noos. Vicko' went t'th' phone booth an' dialed Fatty's number. "He's a-gonna make it," he said simply.

"Thet's fine." Fatty's voice soun'ed sleepy. "Komatsu said t' tell yo' t'take th' day off an' git some rest."

"Yeah."

Vicko' hung up th' phone an' plodded warily outside. Th' fust pale streaks of dawn were jest beginnin' t'show in th' East as he turned toward home, walkin' past a strin' of barricades, etch surroun'in' a patch of fresh asphalt in th' near-puffick shape of a giant, three-toed foot.

He slepp past noon, an' then lay awake in bed fo' nearly an hour befo'e finally summonin' th' git-up-and-git t'make some bustfast. He called th' horspital while he ate. Angelo was still unconscious, they told him, but his corndishun was stable - th' stan'ard need-to-knows answers thet horspitals like t'give. It didn't tell him mighty much, 'cept thet his friend was alive, an' at th' time, thet was all he pow'ful cared about.

He sat at th' table fo' a long time af'erward, mullin' on over th' events of th' previous day. Nightmares an' dreams, one af'er t'other, sometimes one an' th' same, but none of th' events seemed even remotely rooted in reality. He was beginnin' t'seriously cornsider thet he had gone insane. Mebbe none of this hyar was acshully happenin'. Mebbe it was all in his haid, an' somewhar, his hide was trussed up in a straightjacket, bangin' its haid aginst a padded wall an' babblin' about giant blue-an'-yeller dragons.

A smile came at last t'his lips. "So mebbe ah's nuts," he said aloud, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Cain't say ah's not injoyin' it."

Th' phone rang suddenly, jarrin' him, dawgone it. Irritated, he grabbed it off its cradle. "Hope ah jest doesn't wake up ennytime soon," he mumbled an' put th' phone t'his ear. "Yeah, howdy?"

"Vicko' Sykes?"

Even through th' tellyphone, th' resonance of th' voice made Vicko''s bones rattle. "Komatsu?"

"Yessuh. Ju git enny sleep?"

"Uh, yessuh. Thank yo'. Fatty told me t'take th' day off."

"ah know. ah axed him to. Yo' did a fine job yessuhterday, Vicko'. ah doesn't reckon Angelo'd still be alive eff'n yo' hadn't kepp yer haid."

"Thanks."

"Yo' kin fill out an accident repo't t'morry in Fatty's office. As fo' tonight...ah wonner eff'n yo've had dinner yet."

Vicko' glanced at his bustfast plate, still sittin' on th' table. "No, not yet," he said truthfully.

"Good, cuss it all t' tarnation. Do yo' reckon yo''d like t'come by mah place tonight an' join me? Fatty kin give yo' a ride eff'n yo' need it."

He felt th' hairs stan' up on his arm, dawgone it. He paused a moment, takin' a deep breath, an' quietly said, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Sho'nuff."

"Seven o'clock?"

"Right fine..."

"I'll see yo' then, as enny fool kin plainly see." Th' tone of these last four wo'ds was strikin' - sof'er than usual, juntle, soothin'...

Seduckive?

Vicko' put th' phone down an' scooted his fingers through his hair. "Oh, fella," he croaked, cuss it all t' tarnation. "No way had ah better wake up now." He glanced at his watch t'see how much time he had, an' then haided fo' th' shower.

Fatty's car was as tiny as Fatty was trimenjus. Th' man drove an ancient Toyota wif mo'e rest than paint an' a cracked windshield, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Not much t'look at it, but it runs like a dream," he wheezed as Vicko' squeezed hisse'f into th' front seat beside him, dawgone it. They drove togither in silence; Fatty was not a mighty talkative man by nature, an' Vicko' was too preoccupied wif his own thunks. He reckanized durin' th' ride thet he pow'ful had no idea whut t'speck fum this hyar visit, an' thet made him even mo'e nervous.

Th' car pulled up in front of an old red-brick facko'y. Faded letters painted on th' wall read Sumner's of Noo Jersey, Fine Confeckshuns, Est, 1939. "Here?" Vicko' said in amazement.

"Thet's th' place." Fatty pointed t'a set of trimenjus slidin' dores. "Git in t'th' lef' of them. Don't bother knockin'. He knows yer har."

Vicko' eased hisse'f outta th' car, an' it puttered away. He mounted th' stairs t'th' old loadin' dock an' made his way t'th' dore Fatty had indicated, cuss it all t' tarnation. Pausin' a moment t'gather his nerve, he pulled it open ha'fway an' peeked inside.

Th' facko'y was surprisin'ly clean inside, brightly illuminated by an array of lights aimed at th' ceilin' fum th' ovahhaid catwalks. To his right was a wide steel palette, which he reckanized af'er a moment had been fashioned into a weight bench. An iron girder welded between two one-ton piledrivah haids rested beside it, a testament t'th' immense stren'th of its owny. Other han'-craf'ed weights of even mo'e gigannic propo'shuns were arranged nearby. Komatsu apparently liked t'keep in shape.

"On over hyar, Vicko'."

Th' voice came fum a huge vat in a recessed area of th' facko'y flore. Steam billered an' curled above it, an' as Vicko' moved closer he sar Komatsu's saurian haid risin' above th' surface of sevahal thousan' gallons of water. "They used t'boil chocolate in this hyar vat," he said blissfully, his tail swishin' up outta th' water wif a splash as he shif'ed his posishun. "Thet was in th' old days. Now, thar's only boiled Dz'isu." He smiled on over at Vicko'. "Care t'join me? It's puffick fo' soakin' th' kinks out af'er a hard day at th' site."

Vicko' swallered, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Sho'nuff," he said, soun'in' mo'e se'f-assured than he felt. He stood awkwardly fo' a moment, an' then began t'remove his clothin'. He watched Komatsu fo' enny sign of approval (o' disapproval), but th' trimenjus Dz'isu had closed his eyes agin an' settled to his chin in th' hissin' water. Vicko' had t'slide down a metal ladder thet led t'th' pit, then climb yet t'other ladder t'retch th' rim of th' eno'mous tub, an' af'er assurin' hisse'f th' water warn't as painfully hot as it appeared, he eased hisse'f in, as enny fool kin plainly see.

To his surprise, his feet foun' a metal she'f a few feet unner th' surface. Vicko' was a li'l relieved, an' he sat down on it, lettin' his legs dangle on over th' edge of th' she'f, th' water lappin' at his chin, as enny fool kin plainly see. He sat acrost fum Komatsu, whose haid alone was visible. "ah put thet in mahse'f," Komatsu said af'er a long silence. Th' surface of th' water danced an' rippled harmonically wif th' rumblin' of his voice. "ah doesn't be hankerin' guests t'drown befo'e dinner."

Vicko' laughed a li'l, still feelin' somewhut awkward, cuss it all t' tarnation. Komatsu opened his dark eyes an' gazed back at him, dawgone it. "Yo' look nervous."

He thunk about lyin' at fust, but decided aginst it. "ah's."

"Whuffo'?"

Vicko' fidgited on his seat. "A couple of thin's, ah suppose."

Komatsu smiled, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Is it on account o' ah's yer bost, o' on account o' ah have jaws thet open wider than yer haid?" He sar Vicko' shivah, an' laughed quietly. "ah reckon thet means it's both. As fo' th' fust, ah doesn't be hankerin' yo' t'wo'ry about thet. I've nevah fired a man fo' speakin' his mind, an' ah won't start now. As fo' th' second, cuss it all t' tarnation...fine, thar ain't much ah can do about thet, other than t'assure yo' thet dinner is already cookin' in th' oven, as enny fool kin plainly see." He sat fo'ward, th' water swirlin' aroun' his vast sh'ders as they rose fum its depphs. "ah hope yo' believe it, but ah like t'say it ennyway: ah doesn't hurt varmints unless ah have a fine reason, an' th' list of fine reasons is mighty, mighty sho't."

Vicko' nodded, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Thet's fine t'know." He leaned back aginst th' wall behind him an' tried t'look relaxed, cuss it all t' tarnation. He didn't be hankerin' t'git into th' main reason fo' his nervousness, th' reason thet was still hidden beneath th' water on t'other side of th' tank. Shet mah mouth!

"All right. Wif thet said, tell me about yo'seff."

"Me? Thar's not much t'tell, ah guess. ah was born an' raised in Ohio. Mah parents moved t'Pittsburgh when ah was six. Studied weldin' in trade skoo, wawked in cornstruckshun in thet area until about six months ago, an' then came t'Nooark. Shet mah mouth!"

Komatsu nodded, cuss it all t' tarnation. His black eyes peered intently at Vicko' - into him, it seemed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Vicko' pursed his lips. Th' Dz'isu knowed thet thar was mo'e, an' he was waitin' fo' Vicko' t'say it. He c'dn't does it, though. Mebbe outta ev'ryone he'd evah met, Komatsu'd unnerstan', an' cornsiderin' whut Vicko' had see he'd probably even approve, but despite all, he c'dn't brin' hisse'f t'say it. He had locked it up too deeply inside, how his Pappy had thrown him outta th' house, how his cowawkers had bett up th' shit outta him, how he'd been thrown off of one job site af'er t'other, how th' wo'd faggot had follered him all th' way t'Noo Jersey an' shet ev'ry dore in his face.

He simply sat thar, squirmin' uncomfo'tably in th' warmth of th' Dz'isu's gaze. Komatsu smiled at him an' nodded thunkfully befo'e turnin' away. "Dinner's ready," he rumbled, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Vicko' sighed wif relief, an' reckanized he was tremblin' slightly. Th' subjeck was not one he liked t'talk about, o' even reckon about fo' mighty long, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Somehow, though, he sensed thet Komatsu already knowed.

Th' giant sat fo'ward agin an' then stood up, water cascadin' down his mooscular frame. He turned away fum Vicko' an' picked up a towel thet was larger than a kin'-sized bedsheet; wif his tail, he scooped up a mo'e modestly-sized towel an' lif'ed it acrost th' water t' Vicko''s waitin' han's. "Thanks. Thet's a purdy neat trick," Vicko' said, indicatin' th' nimble tail, ah reckon.

"It comes in han'y." Komatsu threw a leg on over th' wall of th' tank an' stepped out. Vicko' watched him surreppitiously fo' a few seconds, an' then clambered down th' ladder an' hastily dried hisse'f off. Wrappin' th' towel about his waist, he climbed up t'th' main level of th' facko'y flore an' walked aroun' th' pit t'whar Komatsu was waitin'.

Built into th' wall thar was a large brick oven wif a metal dore. Vicko' watched as Komatsu opened th' dore an' retched inside wif a bare han', wifdrawin' a roun' pan wif whut looked like an intire beef quarter stewin' in th' center. "Tough hide," he explained, settin' th' pan down on a wawktable thet was higher than Vicko' was tall, ah reckon. "ah hope yo' like it fine-done."

"Thet's fine," Vicko' said, cuss it all t' tarnation. He stood on tippoe t'try t'see whut th' Dz'isu was doin'. "Kin ah ax a quesshun?"

"Of course -- feel free."

"Do yo', ah, ett ennythin' besides meat?"

Komatsu chuckled deeply. "Thet's a fair quesshun. Don't let these teeth fool yo'. We is also havin' baked patootees an' aspareegus. Dz'isu is omnivo'es, though we does tend t'enjoy meat mo'e."

Vicko' smiled, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah guess it was a stoopid quesshun."

"Not at all, ah reckon. Enny quesshun thet yo' doesn't knows th' answer t'ain't stoopid." He bent down an' offered Vicko' a plate, tiny aginst th' gargantuan han' but piled wif inough grub fo' two full meals. Komatsu's own plate was as trimenjus as a garbage kin lid, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah can tell thet yo've got others, too. Less set down, an' I'll let yo' ax them while we eat."

Th' Dz'isu turned an' strolled toward th' rear of th' facko'y. Vicko' follered, havin' t'race a li'l t'keep pace wif his host's massive gait. He c'dn't he'p watchin' th' long, sinuous tail as it snaked behind its owny, th' spade-tip weavin' side t'side in a nearly hypnotic moshun. So hypnotic, in fack, thet he almost scooted into it when Komatsu suddenly stopped, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Make yo'seff comfy," th' giant rumbled, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Vicko' stepped aroun' him an' sar an immense mattress spread acrost th' flore. Beyond it was an impressive array of eleckronics, includin' a projeckshun TV an' a stereo wif at least a dozen speakers. "ah doesn't haf enny furniture fo' someone yer size," Komatsu said apologitically, "so ah hope th' bed is fine inough. ah also doesn't haf utensils. I'd been meanin' t'git some, but when one is used t' claws..."

"No, this hyar is fine." Vicko' lif'ed one foot up as high as he c'd an' stepped up onto th' mattress. It yielded slightly unner his weight, an' he guessed thet it was a crash pad, like th' ones pole-vaulters use, mebbe even sevahal of them tied togither. Komatsu stepped up, feet sinkin' cornsiderably further into th' surface. Th' material covahin' th' cushion miraculously did not tear beneath th' vicious claws; Vicko' figgerd thet had t'have cost Komatsu quite a lot.

Komatsu leaned back on his tail an' settled down t'a sittin' posishun, crostin' his legs. He laid his plate in his lap. "All right, then, Vicko'. Whut in tarnation'd yo' like t'know?"

Vicko' took a few bites of his dinner. "ah guess, mo'e than ennythin', ah's curious t'knows whut yer. ah know, Dz'isu, yeah, but whut is yo'? Whar did yo' come fum?"

Komatsu chewed thunkfully an' mulled th' quesshun on over. "Mah varmints is an ancient race. We were created long ago t'sarve as warrio's t'th' On overseers. Don't ax who them is - it'd be awfully hard t'explain, as enny fool kin plainly see. ah suppose, in time, even a warrio' race gits tired of fightin', an' needs t'strike out on its own, as enny fool kin plainly see. So we did, cuss it all t' tarnation." He paused fo' t'other bite, swallerin' it befo'e corntinuin'. "We isn't thet much diffrunt fum yo', in most respecks. A li'l mo'e advanced, mebbe, although thet might jest be our own arrogance. A few extry senses, an' some powers thet Man hain't discovahed yet. Other than thet, we is jest...varmints.

"As fo' how we got hyar, fine, thet'd take an awful long time to explain, an' ah's not completely sho'nuff ah unnerstan' it all mahse'f. Bess to save thet one fo' later."

Vicko' nodded, lissenin' closely. "How come yer hyar? An' whuffo' ain't ah evah heard of yo' befo'e?"

"Th' second one's easy. We ain't been hyar long, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! Yo' sar th' crowds outside th' site. A lot of varmints is only jest larnin' thet we are aroun', an' they're natcherly curious. Eff'n we didn't haf th' wall aroun' th' area, they'd be packin' in jest t'ketch sight of me. ah admit, it's flatterin', but it gits tiresome af'er a spell. Now, as fo' whuffo'...ah suppose fo' it's fo' th' same reason yo' moved t'Nooark. Shet mah mouth! We had sumpin t'offer - our abilities, our smarts - an' we were jest lookin' fo' a noo market fo' it."

"Ah-ha." Vicko' ett in silence fo' a spell, an' then ventured, "Is all Dz'isu as trimenjus as yer?"

Komatsu smiled, cuss it all t' tarnation. "No. ah's acshully mighty trimenjus as mah kind go."

Vicko' felt th' warmth risin' wifin him as he reckanized th' double meanin' of thet, an' he cleared his throat. "An' does all of yo'...yo' know, grow th' way yo' did?"

"Not all of us. Thet's a mighty special talent thet has t'be larned, cuss it all t' tarnation. It takes a lot of patience an' prackice, an' frankly, not menny Dz'isu haf thet kind of patience."

"Uh-huh. ah guess yer a lot like us," Vicko' said wif a grin, as enny fool kin plainly see.

"Mebbe. Now ah have a quesshun fo' yo'."

"OK. Shoot."

"Whuffo' is yo' still nervous aroun' me?"

Vicko' paused, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Whut in tarnation makes yo' reckon ah's?"

"On account o' durin' this hyar whole meal, yo' ain't looked at me once."

He reckanized thet was true, an' now thet it was said, he raised his eyes an' met Komatsu's gaze. Th' warmth wifin him rose, an' he began to fidgit restlessly. He tried t'reckon of an excuse, but he knowed thet somehow them eyes'd see through it. "It's..."

"Git on, as enny fool kin plainly see." Th' voice was sof', incouragin'.

Vicko' sighed an' looked down at his plate. "At th' site...th' fif'een minute bust at two..."

Th' Dz'isu hoommed an' nodded, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah hire wawkers who is fine at buildin' an' kin han'le th' job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. ah like them sinsyar, honest, an' dedicated, cuss it all t' tarnation. Varmintally, ah have a preference fo' them who is fine at whut they does, but through no fault of their own kin't find o' keep a job. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. Thet's jest me." He smiled amiably. "Th' bust-time play is not a job requirement, no' will it evah be. ah doesn't ax ennyone t'join in, unless thet varmint comes t'me fust an' expresses an interest."

Vicko' shivahed a li'l an' gu'ped, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah reckon ah's afraid to," he heard hisse'f sayin'.

"Afraid of whut? ah told yo' befo'e, ah doesn't bite."

"It's not thet. ah's jest afraid ah w'dn't...qualify. ah mean, yer..." He waved his han's he'plessly. "An' ah's..."

Komatsu blinked, an' then chuckled, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Yer afraid t'come t'me on account o' yo' reckon ah won't be interested?"

Vicko' shrugged, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Sumpin like thet. ah doesn't know."

"Then whuffo' doesn't yo' find out?"

"Whut in tarnation?"

Komatsu leaned casually t'th' side an' stretched his legs out. He propped hisse'f up on one elbow an' regarded Vicko' wif a level gaze. "Whuffo' doesn't yo' find out?" he said mo'e quietly. Th' tone was similar t'th' one he'd used on th' tellyphone.

Vicko' swallered, an' reckanized he was tremblin' a li'l. Slowly he set his plate aside an' rose t'his feet. He shuffled fo'ward, hesitantly. "I...um, dawgone it....was hopin'...."

"Hush," Komatsu said quietly. Even th' sof' wo'd sent a rumble through th' mattress. "Don't ax. Jest find out."

Vicko' stared at him, an' then nodded, cuss it all t' tarnation. He took t'other step closer an' knelt down in front of Komatsu's chest. He felt th' giant's gaze on him, felt th' warm breath on his sh'der. Slowly he retched a han' toward th' huge, mooscular expanse. Heat radiated fum it, an' his fingers hesitated a moment, an' then juntly touched th' flesh.

Komatsu rumbled appreeciatively an' relaxed, cuss it all t' tarnation. Vicko' did, too, th' appreehenshun he'd been hidin' quickly flowin' away. He began t' splore, eyes wide wif wonner an' admirashun, fingers wan'erin' along th' curve of Komatsu's chest, t'th' edge, whar yeller flesh gave way to right purdy blue, an' then down agin. Th' mooscles were firm, as hard as th' steel at th' heart of th' buildin's they he'ped cornstruck, an' resonated pleasantly wif th' Dz'isu's corntented purr. Vicko' gu'ped down a lump thet was fo'min' in his throat, an' carefully leaned fo'ward, pressin' his cheek t'th' eno'mous chest. Th' purrin' was louder now. His han' splored further, strokin' on over th' giant's belly, fascinated by its firm curves an' valleys.

Komatsu's tail slipped quietly behind him, dawgone it. It's tip nudged its way unner th' towel aroun' Vicko''s waist, an' juntly pulled it away. Vicko' did not resist, no' did he protess when th' broad spade cupped aroun' his back an' held him while Komatsu sat up, then gathard Vicko' into his pow'ful arms an' hugged him tightly. He swallered agin, an' finally was able t'whisper, "ah was hopin' t'join yo' durin' a bust sometime."

Th' great haid swung downward, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Sartinly," th' sono'ous voice replied, cuss it all t' tarnation. Komatsu nuzzled gingerly at Vicko''s cheek, then nudged th' man's haid back an' pressed his muzzle t'Vicko''s lips. He shuddered in response, feelin' Komatsu's tongue pressin' momentarily aginst them, an' then glidin' between t'fill his mouth.

Slowly, Komatsu eased Vicko' onto his back, th' spade slidin' out fum beneath him as he sank into th' mattress. An immense han' settled down on eifer side of Vicko''s to'so, an' Komatsu busted th' kiss an' began t'nuzzle his way down Vicko''s hide. He stopped when he retched th' middle.

Vicko''s haid swam, an' he felt pins an' needles dancin' beneath his hide. His ereckshun throbbed painfully as Komatsu exhaled acrost it an' then slowly opened his mouth. Fum between th' cruel rows of fangs a len'thy tongue slifered downward, th' tip brushin' Vicko''s glans an' recoilin', as eff'n surprised, cuss it all t' tarnation. A hesitashun, an' down it came agin, shyly tastin' at fust, befo'e strikin' an' coilin' like a serpent aroun' Vicko''s manhood, holdin' it firmly while th' gapin' maw ingu'fed it.

Vicko' let out a cry an' arched his back; Komatsu's han' shif'ed to his chest, juntly pinnin' him down while th' sof' lips closed aroun' his ereckshun. He c'd feel th' sof' tongue quivahin' aroun' it, sliferin', teasin' a moment an' then tightenin' its coils. Komatsu growled, th' revahberashun through Vicko''s loins on overwhelmin' th' man's senses. His hide strained upward an' went rigid as his pleasure began to pour fo'th into Komatsu's mouth.

He felt faint. Long minutes seemed t'pass befo'e his achin' loins finally gave up their last, an' his hide sagged feebly back down, as enny fool kin plainly see.

Komatsu chuckled an' raised his haid slowly, closin' his eyes an' swallerin' wif great delight. He licked his lips, an' then began t' crawl fo'ward, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Vicko' felt as though his stren'th was gone, an' he c'd does no mo'e than lie passively, watchin' as th' titan's frame loomed on over him, dawgone it. A knee lan'ed t'eifer side of him, an' Komatsu nudged his hips fo'ward, cuss it all t' tarnation. Melon-sized testicles dexcended onto Vicko''s chess an' lay heavily upon it. A pow'ful scent, thick an' masculine, filled his nostrils, ingit-up-and-gitatin' him, dawgone it. Befo'e his eyes he sar an inch o' mo'e of pink flesh protrudin' fum th' gigannic yeller sheath as it on overhung his face. Needin' no further incouragement, he mussered inough stren'th t' lif' his haid an' begin t'lick.

Shet mah mouth! Th' taste was rich an' salty, an' th' response was eemeejut. Th' broad shaf' pushed free of its housin' an' len'thened rapidly, shovin' insissently into Vicko''s mouth. Alarmed, he began t'squirm, th' sfinein' flesh fo'cin' his jaws open wider an' wider.

Reluckantly, Komatsu wifdrew an' sat back. Shet mah mouth! His pow'ful thighs framed Vicko''s li'l hide; th' taut curves of his booty settled t' eifer side of th' man's spent penis while th' great scrotum draped on over Vicko''s belly. Komatsu groaned as he corntinued t'sfine, th' len'th slidin' up Vicko''s chest, growin' heavier. Vicko' gasped at th' sight, so much like th' bizarre scene on th' sixth flore thet had so cappivated him th' previous day. He retched up an' infolded th' mammoth o'gan in both han's, an' when its girth grew too great fo' him t'hold he threw his arms about it in a tight hug, squeezin' it t'his chest. Komatsu moaned agin, an' a trickle of warm fluid fell upon Vicko''s cheek. Shet mah mouth! Komatsu began t'threst, purrin', legs flexin' smoothly, th' great shaf' pumpin' along Vicko''s chess an' past his face. He turned his haid an' lapped at it, holdin' it as he'd a lovah, pantin' as it dragged on over his hide. He savo'ed th' power of th' mighty creature as th' mooscles strained an' flexed above him, their rhythm growin' evah mo'e urjunt. Th' huge o'gan began t'throb in his arms, an' he held it tighter, pantin' eagerly. Th' curve of th' glans rushed toward him an' past his cheek, then wifdrew agin, an' then th' wo'ld vanished in a curtain of whiteness thet rushed on over his face in warm, sMammyin' waves.

Vicko' became faintly aware of sumpin sof' an' wet strokin' acrost his face an' chest. Through ha'f-lidded, ha'f-focused eyes he c'd see Komatsu's tongue caressin' his flesh, carefully lickin' him clean, as enny fool kin plainly see. He felt it upon his neck, his face, an' then his sh'ders, leavin' th' hide right fine in its wake. A deep, corntented rumble surroun'ed him as he was eased onto his side, an' as strong arms drew him once mo'e to Komatsu's chess he drif'ed off t'sleep. ----------

Komatsu gathard th' crew togither at lunch th' follerin' day an' read them th' riot ack. He wanted no repeats of th' recent accident, an' enny one caught operatin' enny machinery in an unsafe manner'd be dealt wif. "Not fired," he warned, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Dealt wif."

Th' men looked away nervously , not wantin' t'imagine whut thet implied, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Vicko' watched th' Dz'isu stride away af'er th' speech. He was still ha'f-giddy fum his night spent in th' giant's arms. He'd nevah befo'e felt quite so free, no' so alive. He imagined he c'd still taste Komatsu's pleasure on his lips, still feel th' juntle sweep of a warm tongue on over his flesh, an' a shivah danced along his spine.

He turned aroun' t'step onto th' lif', an' foun' Carstairs stan'in' behind him, smirkin'. "Fust time last night, ah hear."

Vicko' tried t'look nonchalant. "Yeah, it was."

Carstairs laughed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Take some advice, an' stick t'th' groun' flore th' ress of today. We doesn't be hankerin' yo' swoonin' an' takin' a haider off a girder." He snickered, an' Vicko' gave him an indignant look, although he knowed mighty fine thet Carstairs was right. "Oh, hey, ah stopped at th' horspital on mah way t'wawk. Angelo's awake. He's purdy so'e, but ah was able t'talk t'him a li'l bit."

Vicko''s heart leaped, cuss it all t' tarnation. "Really? All right! Fry mah hide! Whut in tarnation's he gotta say?"

"He said thanks, fo' one thin'. He also be hankerin' yo' t'come viset him tonight. He said he be hankerin' t'knows all about yer fust night wif th' trimenjus blue bost."

"Yeah, sho'nuff, whutevah," Vicko' said wif a shrug, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! "ah jest hope his heart kin take it. When is visitin' hours?"

Someone called fo' Carstairs fum above. "Gotta run," he said, dancin' backward, "Yo' kin hoof it ennytime. They'll let enny of us in as long as we doesn't brin' Komatsu. He's so't of on their shit list right now."

Vicko' thunk about th' mess th' huge claws had made of th' driveway, an' decided thet warn't unreasonable. Takin' Carstairs' advice, he put his name down fo' groun'-level wawk fo' th' af'ernoon, as enny fool kin plainly see. It was mostly wheelbarrows an' cement, mindless an' back-bustin', but at least it gave him lotsa time t'indulge in his memo'ies, an' t' ogle th' trimenjus Dz'isu etch time he passed by.

Later in th' af'ernoon, Vicko' paused t'take a restroom bust. Thet was t'other small but welcome advantage t'wawkin' on th' groun' -- it was much closer t'th' po't-a-potties. He ducked inside one of them an' attended t'whut was necessary, an' as he swung th' dore open an' walked out he blunnered haidlong into a black wall thet hadn't been thar when he intered, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah beg yer pardon," it said, cuss it all t' tarnation.

Vicko' stepped back in shock an' looked up. Th' huge figger ahaid of him turned slowly an' lowered its gaze toward him, dawgone it. Whar Komatsu was blue, this hyar creature was inky black. Shet mah mouth! A red unnerbelly an' stripes on its limbs gave it an almost demonic appeareence. Vicko' was so startled thet he did not even hear Komatsu's heavy footfalls approachin'. "Ah, thar yer! Fry mah hide!"

Th' black Dz'isu smiled an' lowered its haid respeckfully. "ah's so'ry ah's late, Komatsu. How is our man?"

"He's a-gonna be all right," Komatsu rumbled as he wiped some grease fum his han's on a rag, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! "It was a close call, ah reckon. Vicko', yo' heard th' noos, didn't yo'?"

Vicko' swallered, lookin' fum one giant t't'other. Th' black one was not at all as large as Komatsu, but he still towered on over Vicko', who was feelin' quite tiny in their presence. "Yessuh. Carstairs told me."

Komatsu nodded, an' then laid an ino'mous han' on Vicko''s sh'der. "This hyar is Vicko' Sykes. He's th' one ah told yo' about. Vicko', this hyar is Takenshowdy-doo, mah business partner."

Takenshowdy-doo smiled down at Vicko' an' offered a han'. Vicko' took it, tensin' a li'l as it curled into a fist aroun' his whole han' an' squeezed sof'ly. "Yo' did a fine job, ah hear. We ought t'give yo' a raise."

Vicko' blushed, cuss it all t' tarnation. "ah only started this hyar week. Shet mah mouth!"

"We'll take it outta Fatty's pay," Komatsu offered wif a broad grin, as enny fool kin plainly see. "He c'd stan' t'slash his grocery bill a bit."

Takenshowdy-doo let out a barkin' laugh, an' then turned an' cocked an ear as th' clock down road struck two. "Oh...bust time." He winked at Komatsu. "Shall we?"

"An' whuffo' not?" Komatsu snickered an' strode off, wif Takenshowdy-doo beside him, their tails snakin' behind them in puffick symmetry.

Vicko' watched them disappear into th' fenced area between th' two sheds, an' then sighed an' started back toward th' cement trough. He made a mental note t'chastise Angelo soun'ly fo' not menshunin' this hyar "business partner" t'him befo'e.

A lone rivet gun began t'clatter high up on th' struckure as Vicko' bent on over his wheelbarrow, but even on over th' noise he heard someone roarin' out his name. Droppin' th' han'les in alarm, he spun aroun' t'see Komatsu leanin' out fum behind th' shed, cuss it all t' tarnation. A black tail- spade was draped casually on over his sh'der. Smilin', he raised his han' an' cocked a clawed finger invitin'ly.

Vicko' swallered, an' looked aroun', then pointed quesshunin'ly at hisse'f.

Komatsu nodded, his smile broadenin', an' then vanished behind th' shed agin.

"Oh Lo'd," Vicko' breathed, cuss it all t' tarnation. He took a shaky step fo'ward, an' then t'other, an' then busted into a run, strippin' off his shirt. "Yo' wasn't kiddin', yo' li'l Dego," he muttered aloud as he raced toward th' bust room, dawgone it. "Fif'een minute bust -- bess part-a th' job! Fry mah hide!"