While we're at it let's crucify cute little tan Katya Clover, she looks ready and willing to me.
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The manip is one thing, Foggybottom.
Coming up with a plausible back story for why she looks so pleased with herself is another matter.
Anyway, here goes.....
Four hours Kathy had hung here in indescribable agony.
The pain from the nails was terrible, but not as terrible as the bitter feeling that Barbaria, Messaline, and Eulalia had abandoned her to her lonely, ignominious death. How could they? For two years she had fought alongside them, guarding their backs against the bloody Roman invaders. What the fuck had happened to loyalty?
She groaned as her tortured muscles continued their unceasing protest against the unnatural position that crucifixion so cruelly held her in. She cried for death. How much longer must she endure this?
A choking scream reawakened her to the world beyond her cross. The single Roman guard collapsed in front of her, an arrow protruding from his throat.
Through the mists of pain she watched as a figure, with a single swish of a sword, sent the Roman's head bouncing down the rocks to end its journey with a 'plop' in the waters below.
"Hi Kathy!" Barb smiled up at her, greeting her as if in a chance encounter at the market. "How about we get you down from that cross?"