As he gazed across the street there was a knock on the side window of the car and Mark looked over to the sidewalk. A beat cop was bent over looking in, his puffy red face and piggy little eyes pressed against the glass. The cop signalled for Mark to open the window.

Mark leaned over and wound down the window.

"Can I help you officer?"

"You've been sitting here for over half an hour. You get a kick out of watching little kids?"

Mark blushed but forced himself to keep calm.

"I'm a reporter with The Daily Pundit. I'm following up a lead on the gang selling Super Fly to school kids."

"Ok, I'll let this go, but I'll be keeping an eye on you..."

"Thank you officer."

As the cop walked away, Mark's mind drifted back over the epidemic of Super Fly related incidents. Super Fly was one of a sackful of new designer drugs. Some crazed scientist had taken ordinary Spanish Fly and tampered with it, adding genes and pheromones from everything from rutting rabbits to dogs on heat. Super Fly was a dual action drug, not only arousing the person taking it to unheard of sexual heights but altering the sexual scent that they gave off, making them irresistible to almost everyone within sniffing distance.

Super Flying had started as a Puppie thing (Pre-Teens of Upwardly Mobile Professionals) the children of the nouveau mega-rich. Puppies were known for having been brought up in environments where anything goes. But the pushers had expanded their operations and were now selling to Peepees (the Pre-Teen Proletariat). Now the effects of Super Flying were no longer hidden away in the gated communities of the Upper Levels, but were being seen on the streets where real people lived.

Daily there were stories of Peepees losing control and having sex in public. While Spectrum City was liberal in its views on sex, the populace did draw the line at children fucking in the streets.

As Mark watched, he saw a hoodlum stroll down the street. He was dressed in Gangsta Chic, skin-tight black PVC trousers, SWAT surplus flak jacket and enough gold to fill the teeth of a pimp's convention. The hood was brazen; as he walked he swung a Dior handbag, the one with the booby-trapped fastener. He stopped by the fence of the playground and furtive Peepees began to stroll over to him.....(cont)