Castor Can't Fly Castor didn't know what to do next. The controls on the spaceship were locked, and the entire ship was starting to spin uncontrollably. A spinning spaceship doesn't really do much damage to your stomach; after all, there are no "ups" or remedies for premature ejaculation "downs" in space, no gravity to tell your stomach it's time to throw up. But the dizzying visual of spinning stars and planets was enough to make several crewmembers run, holding their mouths, to the bathroom. "OK Castor, that's enough. You're going to have to do some more studying," said Captain Fregent. She had been the youngest student ever to become captain of a spaceship, and premature ejaculation even now, at 26, she was considered to be better than most captains twice her age. "Listen, Captain, if I just had one more shot..." "Look, we've got to rendesvous with the Egerbleeth in an hour. I don't care if your mom is president of the friggin' galaxy, it's time for you to get the bleep out of the way!!" Castor knew it was time to go. Captain Fregent had that "I'm tired of babysitting celebrity children" look again, and he wasn't about to send the rest of the afternoon cleaning up the ship's bathrooms again. The Ambassador's Mansion Veronica Blaineworth, aka "The Panda," jumped over the tripwire and snuck towards the ambassador's mansion. All she needed were some snapshots of a few documents, kept in a safe hidden behind a premature ejaculation treatment fake fireplace in the master study. It was a warm July night in Washington and her catsuit made her sweat. No matter, she thought, tonight was not a night for seduction. This was supposed to be a quick job - the ambassador was gone on vacation in Greece with his family, and she only need worry about setting off the silent alarm... "Where do you think you're going?" asked a deep male voice directly behind her. Veronica froze.
