This can't be real, Kasia thought. But it was, and she suddenly found that she was getting excited by the idea. Or at least it was a welcome distraction from her own fate. "That masher was pretty cool," she said at length, "but maybe we could try a different one."

They walked together up and down the row of equipment, stopping at each so that Bob could answer technical questions that Kasia kept firing his way. As they did, Bob could see her enthusiasm growing as he candidly described the effects of each one.

"How about this?" Bob asked. "See, it's spring loaded, then bam all those spikes go right through you. I mean her."

"Too fast, Bob."

They walked on a few yards.

"Here's a fun one. She can sit on this big corkscrew thing and it augers it's way into her body, splitting her in half and eviscerating her."

"What's visserate mean?"

"Uh... it pulls her insides out. But we haven't actually tried it yet so we don't know for sure."

"Mmm. I guess it'd be fun if she was still alive." She suddenly stopped at the next contrivance. "Oh Bob, what's this?"

"You wanna squish her with that?"

Kasia looked at the huge machine. Its operation was clear even from a cursory examination. A conveyor belt and a big steel roller. Kasia felt quite intimidated by its formidable solidity as it loomed over her, its green Hammerite paint giving it a serious old-school industrial feel.

"It looks yummy. What does it do?"

She already knew, but wanted Bob to tell her anyway. And so Bob did.

Around two feet in diameter and three feet wide, the roller itself wasn't quite smooth, having ribs across the width of it which made sure it grabbed its victim securely lest she slip from its grasp.

"See, you can raise or lower it. It's all hydraulic."

The conveyor belt was nothing like you'd find at a supermarket checkout. It was actually a modified bulldozer track, to withstand the tons of force the roller could produce. The belt continued beyond the roller for several feet in either direction, and terminated at scrapers which directed whatever remained on the track into a steel waste bin on wheels.

"Head first or toes first?" Bob asked.

"If she was alive, then definitely toes cos it's meaner. So I don't really mind. What will happen anyway?"

"Not actually sure," Bob said, scratching his beard, "It really depends on the dynamic pressures and the..."

Kasia interrupted him excitedly with her own theory. "If it's head first, I bet her head will go pop, and then all her insides will squirt out her ass like toothpaste." She giggled. "Or like a massive shit. Eww, let's do that!"

"You should try it out first," Bob suggested, "before we use it on your sister. Speaking of which, I better go and get her."

He wandered away up the aisle, back towards the Masher.

She was tempted though. She felt strangely safe around Bob. For sure he didn't want to snuff her just yet, and even if he did, there probably wasn't much she could do about it. She climbed onto the conveyor and lay down, her bare toes tucked under the roller. It felt wonderfully perilous, and she imagined she was a damsel in distress and Bob a super-villain. Or maybe her rescuing hero. Her hand strayed to her crotch, and she was surprised to find it was damp.

Bob returned a minute later with a dead brown girl curled up in a wheelbarrow. "Here's your delivery ma'am, Still fresh and warm."

Then he spotted Kasia lying in the machine and burst out laughing. "That's not actually what I had in mind. I meant you could try the controls."

"Oh," said Kasia, feeling a little foolish. "Well I'm just imagining."

Bob stepped over to the side of the monster, and retrieved a grey box with some buttons on. It was connected to the machine via a electrical cable. He looked over to Kasia, ready to begin the tutorial, but his thoughts suddenly halted as his gaze settled on the impossible temptation laid out before him.

Too trusting. Or dumb. But perfect. And ready. Emma would be mad of course. Tough. He'd tell her it was an accident.

He paused to assimilate her beauty one last time. His eyes followed the feminal curves of the soft fabric that wrapped her vulnerable flesh; from the smooth length of her legs, to the swell of her hips, her flat stomach to the perky mounds of her breasts. The roller would follow the same route.

His thumb reached for the button.