"Would you like a drink, Ashlee dear?" he asked almost fondly.Her head rolled back, eyes continuing to plead and implore a drink to take away the shit...y horrid taste. Anthony pursed his lips. "Now that means I'll have to remove..." he observed, gesturing to the duct tape, "which means that if you scream, I'll have to hurt you bad. You won't scream, will you Ashlee?"She shook her head violently in agreement."Are you sure now?" he enquired. "Cos if you do..."The mere threat was enough. A more. .. like, there's this formula they get down pat -- and they're good at it, too. They think they're all supposed to act like a guest on the Tonight show or something. But it's another thing to want to be a knower. A seeker." She flicked her cigarette against the ashtray and leaned forward on her elbows. "You're a seeker, aren't you? You don't want to know the formula, you want to know where the formula came from. You don't want to find the ocean, you want to find out how it got there, and why,. More

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