Karma doesn't think when it names stormers. They just use whatever word pops into their heads. We had a stormer in our squad who's been more of a problem than any Darknight operatives. He's called Sex.

When he applied to our advert for a Death Squad operative, I had to go the department of registration and say that we wanted to have sex in the squad. I was told that we didn't need to register that.

We were interviewed for Third Eye News once. The reporter asked me what was the best thing to have if you know you're going to get into a fight. I said "Sex".

A while ago we raided the flat of a suspected subversive. We found him cowering in the bathroom. I pointed my gun at him, and he said, "Qu'est ce que vous desirez?". I didn't understand him, so I called over the only Parisian speaker in the squad. "Sex!".

His power reaper jammed once, and I offered to get him some oil. When I went into the shop I realised they had a huge choice of oils, so I asked an attendant which was best. He asked why I wanted it. I said it was for Sex. He suggested I should try a different shop.

He went missing a few months ago. I can't say I was sorry when he didn't come back. On all the paperwork we had to fill out, I had to say I hadn't seen any sign of Sex for a week.

That's the way it goes. Sex is great for a while, but gets you into all sorts of trouble then disappears. Hey-ho.

Karma doesn't think when it names stormers. They just use whatever word pops into their heads. We had a stormer in our squad who's been more of a problem than any Darknight operatives. He's called Sex.

When he applied to our advert for a Death Squad operative, I had to go the department of registration and say that we wanted to have sex in the squad. I was told that we didn't need to register that.

We were interviewed for Third Eye News once. The reporter asked me what was the best thing to have if you know you're going to get into a fight. I said "Sex".

A while ago we raided the flat of a suspected subversive. We found him cowering in the bathroom. I pointed my gun at him, and he said, "Qu'est ce que vous desirez?". I didn't understand him, so I called over the only Parisian speaker in the squad. "Sex!".

His power reaper jammed once, and I offered to get him some oil. When I went into the shop I realised they had a huge choice of oils, so I asked an attendant which was best. He asked why I wanted it. I said it was for Sex. He suggested I should try a different shop.

He went missing a few months ago. I can't say I was sorry when he didn't come back. On all the paperwork we had to fill out, I had to say I hadn't seen any sign of Sex for a week.

That's the way it goes. Sex is great for a while, but gets you into all sorts of trouble then disappears. Hey-ho.