Warning: This is a VERY taboo, vintage, hard-boiled full length (100+ Pages), post-censorship erotic novel. This is bad stuff. Both bad meaning bad and bad meaning *good*. The story is so crazy, we can't even give a proper description.
*******
She punched the Washington Tribune, and waited for someone to answer. Finally the switchboard came on, and breathlessly she asked for the city room. Somebody answered there, and she asked for Greg. Finally, Greg answered.
"Oh, God, Greg," she wept suddenly into the phone upon hearing his voice. "Help me."
"Daphne? What's the matter?"
"They're trying to kill me. They raped me and they're trying to kill me."
"Calm down," she heard him say. "What are you talking about?"
"Greg, they know. They know that I'm not one of them, that.. . they locked me in a room and they were going to inject me with something. I.. . I think I killed him."
"Who?"
"The doctor, Utzall. He's the man behind this whole thing. Oh, Jesus, Greg, please come help me."
*******
She punched the Washington Tribune, and waited for someone to answer. Finally the switchboard came on, and breathlessly she asked for the city room. Somebody answered there, and she asked for Greg. Finally, Greg answered.
"Oh, God, Greg," she wept suddenly into the phone upon hearing his voice. "Help me."
"Daphne? What's the matter?"
"They're trying to kill me. They raped me and they're trying to kill me."
"Calm down," she heard him say. "What are you talking about?"
"Greg, they know. They know that I'm not one of them, that.. . they locked me in a room and they were going to inject me with something. I.. . I think I killed him."
"Who?"
"The doctor, Utzall. He's the man behind this whole thing. Oh, Jesus, Greg, please come help me."