Mon-Hum Squad: Chapter 4

[Warning: Bad Words, Violence, and my first attempt at Smut]
Roman unloaded his duffle from his SUV as Rose, Liz, and Cait waited for him.
“Any idea why Top wanted us to be at the Range today?” He asked sitting the bag at a table. The range had a simple enough layout, definitely not military but it’s where he’d been most days since taking the contract. Four main areas each had their own flag post to mark if they were in use. A pistol, rifle, 200 yard, and a 1000 yard course were all contained outdoors within a razor wire perimeter, not to mention a handful of acres of private woodland for survival training.
“No clue, just for us all to be here at 0900 and have our gear.” Cait responded as she loaded her rifle, a black G36C with a dual drum magazine, holographic sight, and muzzle break.
“Well it’s 0840 so we need to be fully squared away soon.” Liz chimed in as she double checked her dual suppressed HK45s. Roman always held a distaste for dual wielding pistols but he wasn’t going to call Liz on it after the incident the other day. Rose silently checked her M1014 shotgun, then double and triple checked it. Roman noticed she had been increasingly nervous around him since their night together, even though they didn’t do anything other than sleep after a few beers. Truth be told the night they spent together was the only in a while he wasn’t wrecked by nightmares, but he wasn’t going to push her for another with how she’s been acting. Roman unzipped his duffle and picked out his Vector CRB to set on the table.
“Odd gun.” Remarked Liz.
“It’s a wicked score settler. Been in love with the thing since buying it.”
“What makes it so special?” Pried Cait.
“I’ve spent the better half of three years personalizing this little beauty to kick ass like no other. Advanced action means the recoil is forced down instead of back into you, making its accuracy in the field unquestioned.”
Liz rolled her eyes before holstering her handguns, “You Americans and your guns..”
“I resent that statement you know.”
At 0900 sharp a black SUV pulled into the lot, both front doors opening. Coming from the drivers seat was the Lamia case handler, how the bloody hell she drove the car eluded Roman, but what caught his eye was who came out of the passenger seat; a Raiju wearing blue digital fatigues, sporting a punk short haircut and a “Danger: Electricity” graphic on her right cheek.
“Welcome to the party Top.” Roman called out.
“Team, welcome your newest recruit.”
“New recruit?” Questioned Liz.
“Call me Willow.” Pipped out the new girl.
“This is Cait, Liz, Rose, and Roman.” Introduced their CO. Cait and Rose were quick to welcome her, while Liz and Roman hung back to examine her. Roman scanned her over and over; the way she talked, acted, carried herself. She was new, brand new, definitely a fresh recruit.
“Eying up the new girl, Roman?”
“You’re mind ever get out of that gutter, Liz?”
Roman sighed and shook his head.
“Well she is cute, don’t you think? I’d love a piece for sure.” Liz purred in his ear, “Plus they get off with a zap.”
“Hey Roman! Come meet the new squaddie!” Called out Rose, giving him the perfect chance to escape the cat’s lewdness.
“So you’re the merc?” Asked Willow as Roman approached.
“I’ve been called worse, but yeah, that’s me. Let me guess, fresh recruit, never seen any action?”
“That’s correct!” She chimed up, full of life. She certainly held enthusiasm, that’s for sure.
“What’s your story Willow?” He asked.
“Buy me a drink.”
Roman was almost taken aback, but laughed.
“Oh I like you already. Give me a minute, girls.” Roman excused himself and walked to talk to his handler, the Lamia looking him up and down as he approached.
“Coming to see the big boss?”
“Was just wondering if you could answer some questions for me.”
“Sure, walk with me.” The handler motioned for him to join her as she started to slither away, he quickly jogged up to her.
“What’s up, Roman?”
“Was wondering when I could get a week of leave, family wants me to come home.”
“Don’t break my heart and tell me you got a family now, Roman.”
“What? No, my sister wants me to come back. Probably is gonna try to get me to retire, but I at least want to tell her no myself.”
“That’s a tall order, Roman, but I think I can work it out; on one condition.”
“You’re not black mailing me for a date, are you?” They shared a quick laugh, had he asked his old CO that she would have had him kissing dirt in a second.
“No no, tempting, but no. You’ll need to take one of the girls with you.”
“Why’s that?”
“You may be a good soldier, but you need to bond with your squad more, you’re still a merc and they need to know you to trust you.” Roman thought over her words, he almost forgot he was still just contracting here.
“Sure, who should I take though.”
“Well, Cait had been asking for leave with her sister, so she may be your best bet. We got one more lead to tackle before we have the breathing room to allow you two this, so work hard and we’ll see.”
“Yes Ma’am. I better get back to them, thanks.”
As Roman walked back he could see the four girls all toying with their guns and bragging, with Willow holding his.
“Don’t you know it’s bad luck to hold another man’s personal rifle?” He said as he approached, crossing his arms sarcastically.
“Didn’t know she was so special to you.” Willow replied, taking a stance with the weapon aimed up and her off hand on her hip.
“Considering I’ve sunk a few grand into her, she’s as special as they come.” Roman extended his hand and Willow relinquished his weapon back to him.
“What’s your weapon of choice anyway, Willow?” Cait asked.
“I was trained with an M4 but I’m hoping to expand my horizons.”
Michael laughed to himself, she was so new it was damn near cute.
“Alright girls, who gets to break in the FNG?”
“Actually,” Willow pipped up, “I was hoping you would.”
Roman raised an eyebrow.
“Hah, brave, We’ll have fun then. Pistol range time.”
The five of the each took a line and drew their arms. Cait held a Colt .44 Python and fired at a target 25 feet out, easily hitting a center mass grouping. She was quick, solid, and accurate; the obvious marksman. Rose took her stance with a .357 Glock 32 and fired half her clip into the targets head, leaving a quarter-dollar sized grouping with a few outside the black; Although she was accurate she obviously wasn’t a pistol person, obviously preferring her claws in combat. Liz drew her dual HK45s and fired all her round into the target in rapid succession, every bullet hitting in the black; The obvious pistoleer, and proud of it.
Roman drew his service M1911, his pistol since basic, and worn enough to prove it. A black steel slide with his battalion name etched into it complemented the desert tan lower with a black grip. He aimed at the target, putting half the clip in the targets center mass, and drawing a smiley face on the head with the rest. Roman’s combat style screamed ‘Military trained, Merc made’. The four turned to watch Willow, who stood at her post looking at three weapons before her. A Taurus Judge, chambering either a .410 shotgun shell, or a .45 Long Colt; Cait’s recommended pick. A Glock 32 chambering a .357 Sig; Rose’s recommend pick. A Russian CZ75 with a rapid fire modification chambering a 9mm; Liz’s recommended pick. Each girl was anxious to see which one she’d pick.
“When it doubt, try them all!” Roman said coming up behind Willow.
Willow jumped and loaded the first three chambers of the Judge with Long Colt, then two with .410s.
“He’s gonna be coming at you, make the shots count.” Roman instructed as Willow took her stance. Roman hit the button, making the target close in from 25 feet. Willow fired the first three shots at the targets head, then the two shotgun bursts at its center mass. As the target approached Willows ears dropped, her first three shots were off; one missed, while another grazed the outlines neck, and the other clips it’s ear. Both shotgun bursts hit each shoulder.
“He’s definitely gonna feel that in the morning.” Roman remarked.
“The recoil threw me off!” Willow defended.
“Ease up, don’t tense, try again.” Roman instructed. As She reloaded Roman replaced and reset her target.
“Remember, if you’re too tense the revolver will snap, throwing you off. Just accept it, reset, repull the trigger.”
“Got it, ready.”
Roman hit the button, restarting the trial. Willow fired off the first three rounds, hitting the head in a tighter grouping, before peppering the center mass with flechette. As her target came into view she became chipper again.
“I got it!”
“Hah. You learn quick, next the Glock. Let’s see how you do naturally, this one will stay at 25 feet.” Roman quickly replaced and reset the target as Willow checked and ready her new sidearm.
Willow quickly emptied her clip into the target, leaving a loose grouping into its center mass.
“Well, he’s dead,” Roman said as he recalled the target, “But ease up there cowgirl, it’s not a race. Speed is fine, but if your grouping is that loose it’s not an even trade off. Focus on your target, where your shot is, and your grouping. Ready up.”
Roman was in a rhythm with the targets as Willow loaded her second clip into the handgun, taking her shooters position.
Once more, Willow emptied her clip, but slower this time, making sure of her shots. As Roman recalled the target once more, He could see her aim had drastically improved; with three obvious groupings: Head, Heart, Center mass. Once more she lit up with happiness, even exuding sparks at the tips of her hair.
“You, miss, are a fast as fuck learner. Last one, automatics. Lower caliber means lower recoil along with less penetration. Let loose, I want to see you handle this.”
Once more, Willow prepped as Roman set her up, obviously enjoying himself.
“Let ‘Er rip.”
In one solid fire Willow let out the entire clip, the gun almost jumping from her grip. Roman couldn’t help but chuckle, “I knew that would happen.”
“It jumped out of control!”
Roman just laughed more, “Short. Controlled. Bursts. Hun. Reload, chop chop.”
Willow reloaded with a pronounced electricity in the air around her, his teasing had obviously excited her.
“Unleash hell.” In three short four round bursts, Willow left three grouping in the three vital spots on the target. Roman clapped and Willow once more was giddy with joy.
“Congrats, you successfully used a machine pistol.”
As the two exchanged smaller words the three girls talked amongst themselves.
“She learns quick, that’s for sure.” Chimed Cait.
“Seems like she broke Roman’s shell easy too.” Rose added.
“It’s kinda cute, she gets excited from such little teasing.” Pipped in Liz.
“You ever think of any thoughts other than lewd ones?” Asked Rose.
“Violent ones, and memes.” Replied Liz.
“Such a complex mind, Liz, such a complex mind .” Laughed Cait.
The case handle slithered over to the firing range as the team was all collectively fucking around, Roman to the point of trying to do trick shots involving twelve thrown clay targets and both of Liz’s handguns.
“Team, gather up.”
As quick as could be, the team lined up in front of her.
“You’re on watch and report duty for the weekend,  We’ve got reports of disappearances again. No specific species is being targeted this time, so we’re going broad watch and observe, try and lure them out. Rose and Cait, you’ll be cooperating with an agent who will be working as bait in he more higher-end clubs. Liz, Willow, and Roman you’ll be working the seedier bars and clubs. Any questions?”
“Standard Covert gear boss?” Asked Roman.
“Concealed Handguns, knives, and Kevlar Vests.” She replied.
“What’s the operation times for this?” Asked Rose.
“All weekend, Friday night through Sunday night. Any more questions?”  
The squad collectively shook their heads. The handler handed each of them of them a assignment folder and a small package. Almost on cue, the team raised a collective eyebrow.
“Open them, it’s a surprise.”
Roman opened his package and pulled out a circular Velcro patch; it was a grey background with a black border. In the center was an inverted black space with a punisher skull in the middle. Surrounding the spade was a olive branch, four leaves on the left and three on the right. Crested among the top in gold was ‘Mon-Hum Squad’, while crested in gold along the bottom was ‘Homines Divisa ~ Genus Commembretus’.
“Humanity Divided, Species United.” Roman read aloud.
Each member studied their patches.
“Aww boss, it’s so sweet, I could just hug you.” Roman laughed heartily.
“Not turning you down.”
“Fuck it!”
Roman walked up the the handler and bear hugged her,  lifting her off the ground before setting her back down.
“I’m so getting this tattooed!” Roman exclaimed.
“Count me in.” Liz chimed in.
“Ditto.” Added Rose.
“Hell yeah.” Cait boasted.
“Fuck it, why not.” Shrugged Willow.
Roman laughed to himself, “I’ll try not to scar the fuck out of this one too.”
Roman shifted uncomfortably in his outfit, a pair of tight jeans and shined leather combat boots, along with a long sleeve flannel concealing his Kevlar.
“This is bullshit Liz!”
Roman called to the back of the car.
“You lost, fair and square~” She hummed finishing her make up.
“A fucking punk rock bar? You fucking dressed me like an edgy teenager!” Roman rubbed his temples as Liz and Willow shared a sinister chuckle.
Fed up, Roman gave in and sighed, “So what’s the game plan girls, they won’t be coming for me, my best bet is blend into the back and watch.”
“Just hang back and watch the show merc!” Willow chimed as she and Liz left the car.
“Why couldn’t I just be being shot at…” Roman muttered as he exited the car.
The bar scene was exactly as the dossier described: Sketchy. But that didn’t stop Roman from sampling the beer they served, cheap and horrible, just like back home. After receiving another beer from the busty and well pierced goth bicorn, Roman looked over his shoulder to survey the bar around him. It almost looked like a renovated warehouse, with a stage in center and a mosh pit surrounding it. Decorating the walls were a collage of couches, chairs, and stools. Liz was in the middle, enjoying herself and the music quite well; she blended in too damn well. Sat in one corner was Willow, almost cloaked against the wall, she sat surveying every single monster she saw, then did so again. Every so often she’d share a glance with Roman and she’d quickly  blush and avert her glance. Returning to his drink he finished it before turning in his stool to lean his back against the bar.
“You are far too uncomfortable to want to be here.” The bicorn said leaning forward, handing him yet another beer.
“No kidding, here I thought I was blending well.” Roman chuckled.
“What’s your name, handsome?”
“Roman, and you find these scars handsome?”
“Very. How far do they run?”
“Almost every inch of my body.” Roman drank most of his beer.
“Jesus, how’d that happened?”
“Hun, you are far too many beers short for that story.”
“Well your tabs on the house tonight, entertain me.”
Roman laughed, “You’re in over your head sweetie, where do I begin…”
Over the next few hours the Bicorn, whose name she shared a Gwenneth, shared a few drinks as well as stories until the band stopped playing and the bar closed. With all the cheap beer In his system the bicorn managed to weasel Roman’s phone number out of him before Liz and Willow met with him to leave.
“You girls have fun?” Roman asked as he entered the back seat. Liz took the drivers seat with Willow in the passenger.
“I had fun, you Willow?”
“Are observation ops supposed to be fun?”
“Only when you can get away with it.” Roman answered.
Roman led Liz to his house, who effectively convinced his inebriated mind to let Willow and her stay there for the night.
As the piercing afternoon sun forced its way through Roman’s bedroom window, he muttered innumerable obscenities toward the pulsating feeling between his temples. He rose out of bed and stumbled to the door, not caring that most of last night was a blur or that he was only wearing boxers. As he opened his bedroom door a wafting smell hit him; Fresh Coffee.
“God that smells good.” Was all he could mutter as he stumbled towards the kitchen, slowly regaining his motor-controls. As he walked through the living room he could see Liz still blacked out on his couch, curled up in a ball like a kitten, he chuckled a little at the sight. Walking into the kitchen he was greeted by the sight of Willow in a set of black lace bra and panties sipping on a cup of coffee sweetened to an ungodly level.
“Pour me a cup would you?” Roman muttered as he sat at the counter.
“S-Sure!” She blurted out, caught off guard by his sudden presence. As she poured him a cup and handed it to him he sipped it immediately, ignoring the scolding heat in his mouth. He looked up to see her blushing horribly.
“Though I’m not against the fact of a beautiful woman wearing only her underwear in my kitchen, where are your clothes?” He asked drinking the last of his hangover cure. Blushing even more she hid her face and poured him another cup.
“I had spilled something on them last night, so they’re in your washer.” She muttered.
“Fair enough.”
Roman raised an eyebrow at her.
“How did you get those scars? You were talking to that bartender about it last night but I tried not to eavesdrop.”
“It’s… hard to talk about sober. I’ll buy you a drink sometime, let you hear all my troubles.”
“They look painful..”
The room fell silent before another voice broke in, “Well don’t I feel over dressed.”
“Mornin’ Meme Cat.” Roman called over his shoulder before standing up, “I need a shower, scouring hot.”
Checking his phone Roman clothed himself in his old combat fatigues, he had a text from Gwen.
“Yo, soldier boy, you oughta come to the bar again tonight.”
“Works got me somewhere else tonight, another time? Just get better beer.”
He locked his phone and stared at his background, a picture of him and his family; before the scars. His face looked alien to him, along with the cocky grin it sported. Looking back he remembered how invincible he used to feel, like his time in the sandbox only proved that point.
“Cute background.” Liz chimed over his shoulder.
Roman practically flipped his shit, “How fuckin’ long you been in here?”
“Long enough to get a good show, was sure you heard my moans a few time…” “Fucks sake Liz?”
“Oh wha-” She began by was cut off as Roman pulled her close and kissed her before pushing her away.
“You’re a fucking perv, you know that?” Suddenly, the usually bold and witty Cheshire just stood there, flabbergasted and blushing.
Roman laughed, “Get your bearings Liz, gotta get prepped for tonight.”
Roman sat in the drivers seat of his SUV with Liz in the passenger and Willow in the back seat. The car was parked near a back alley night club described in the mission dossier, and once more planning details of observation.
“In the interest of occupational safety, I’m going to not drink tonight, so my place will be set near…. this back wall.”
Roman stated pointing to the layout in the dossier.
“I’ll try to blend in and lure out anyone who might be lurking.” Willow pipped in. “And I’m stuck on surveillance duty, bullshit.” Liz groaned.
“You lost fair and square~” Roman mimicked, leaving the car before she could lash her claws at him.
“Is it really wise to tease her like that?” Willow asked as she left the car.
“Probably not, but it’s payback for earlier.” Roman was dressed in combats and blue jeans, and a black leather bomber jacket concealing his Kevlar. Willow was dressed in thigh high boots, black tight shorts and a crop top; easy bait. Both had hidden transceivers in their ears to keep contact with Liz. Upon entering the club the two were disoriented by the blinding and flashing lights and loud music. Roman took his position on the wall and did his best to blend, while Willow mingled with the crowd, the night was off to a great start. Around 3AM Roman noticed an odd man eyeing a couple of the monster girls with a devilish grin, Willow being one of them.
“Show time girls, we got a fish eyeing the line.” Roman said over the comms.
After thirty minutes more the man made his approach, using a cheesy line and sweetening the deal with a drink; Willow accepted the offer. The man claimed his name was Randall and had the look of a disheveled biker, and while he thought no one was looking, slipped a pill in Willows drink. He glared at her as he waited for her to drink, but she had no opening to get rid of it with him being none-the-wiser. Roman had a quick idea, approaching a man, with the look of a pompous douche, whispering “Sorry about this.” Before pushing him into the man. While he was distracted she emptied the shot glass behind the bar; he didn’t notice. As Roman watched he could almost swear Willow was an actor, not a soldier, as she mimicked the effects of being drugged surprisingly well. When he offered to “Get somewhere private” Willow accepted easily.
Outside the man tried coaxing her into a old van, “Come on sweetie, I’ve got sooo much planned for you.”
Willow couldn’t help but laugh as Roman and Liz sprung their trap. Roman opened the drivers door and threw the stringy driver to the ground, pinning him easily. Willow planted a well placed kick to his family jewels, making it easier for Liz to pin him and cuff him. After Willow making a call, agents met them for pick up in less than ten minutes.
“Easy enough, well done all,” Commented Roman as he pat Willows head, “You did good newbie.”
“Thanks for the opening.”
“No problem, you’ll want to call it a night?” He asked.
“Sure, another night at your place Roman?” Liz asked, almost begging.
“Sure, damn place is empty enough. Plus a few beers to celebrate the FNGs first ‘tag and bag’ wouldn’t hurt.”
“Oh bull-fucking-shit!” Shouted Willow.
Roman finished what must have been his 5th beer since they had returned to his house. What was supposed to be a simple few beers of congratulations quickly turned into a one-up contest between Willow and Roman.
“Not bullshit, broke two of his ribs in one kick. Would’ve  broke the back of the chair too, if Rose wasn’t holding it. What? You got a better story, Rook?”
Willow slammed back her remaining beer, her cheeks flush red and a slight electrical aura floating about her.
“Beat someone within an inch of their life in basic.”
“Oooh, I gotta hear this.” Mocked Roman as he opened another beer.
Liz simply sat on the kitchen counter, watching the two, though she had only had about half the amount of beer the two others had.
“He was an asshole who made it his personal mission to make my life a living hell, so I paid him back for it. It was a day before graduation and he and two of his buddies decided to try and beat me down, ruin my spirit. They chose wrong.”
“Heh, three on one? Wouldn’t be fair otherwise. But a three to one ain’t a trump card Willz.” Roman smirked knowing the new nickname would ruffle her up more. “Well what’s the worst you’ve done huh?” Willow asked, electric aura intensifying.”
“Got kidnapped by a hellhound, raped and abused for a week, then stabbed myself in the gut to force her to get me medical help.”
Roman was blunt with his delivery, no theatrics, no mood setting, just blunt. He knew it shouldn’t have been that easy to say, but it was strong beer.
“That’s…” Willow began but quickly trailed off.
“A trump card, Willz.” Roman chuckled before ruffling her hair.
In an instant all the pent electricity Willow had stored went off, traveling straight into Roman. He expected pain, a shocking numbing, but instead felt intense pleasure, to the strength he hadn’t felt before.
“What th- oh holy fuck..” Willows face turned a deep red as the Cheshire watched plotting, a sly smile crossing her lips.
“I’ll uh.. I’ll be back.” Roman was sobered now, the shock assured that. He rose to his feet and made his way to his bedroom.
As Roman entered his room he was too caught in his own thoughts to realize he had been followed until the Chesire’s arms wrapped around him.
“Told you they get off with a zap.” Was all she said before playfully biting on his neck.
“No fucking kidding.”
Liz ran her hand down to his erect manhood before whispering into his ear, “Sure got you standing at attention.”
Roman didn’t stop her when she began unbuttoning his pants, or when she began stroking him, enveloping his erection in her fluffy paws. Roman was quick to turn the Chesire around and kiss her deeply, lifting her to meet his level. Not missing a beat Liz dropped her pants, wrapping her legs around his waist, her moist panties rubbing his cock as she ground her hips on him. Roman was quick to sit her on his bed, slipping her panties from between her legs before she wrapped her legs around his neck. Without waiting any time Roman dug his tongue deep into her pussy, exploring every inch of her. Liz’s paws gripped Roman’s slicked back Ranger cut as she moaned, giving Roman the incentive to begin eating her out. As Liz’s moans drifted into his mind, Roman couldn’t help but feel an electrical current flowing through him, driving his sexual drive into a frenzy. From the cracked bedroom door, muffled moans from Willow dripped the air in static as she used her fingers to edge herself along as she watched. In a sudden burst, Liz dug down her claws as she released her built up pleasure, flooding Roman’s mouth with a sickly sweet liquid. With eyes glazed over, Roman laid Liz flat on her back as he climbed over her, only for to wrap her legs around him and spin him over to ride him.
“Heh, dommie kitty.” Was all Roman could say before Liz kissed him deeply.
Roman could swear electricity flowed as Liz slowly slide his rigid manhood into her, moaning as it filled her up inch by inch. Liz’s claws dug deep into Roman’s shoulders as she arced her hips back and forth, electricity coming to a head. As Liz’s hips moved back Roman took hold of her hips and began rapidly bouncing her up and down, thrusting hard into her. As Roman put in one final thrust a sudden burst of electrical pleasure arced between Liz and Roman, forcing the two into a sudden but deep climax. As the two panted the rooms door swung open, revealing a nude and masturbating Willow, a blue flow of electricity swirling around her.
“And I didn’t get an invite? I’m hurt.” Mocked Willow.
“Always room for another.” Cooed Liz.
As Jaxton swung open the cold steel door a exasperated death rattle croaked through the air, a sign to him that his mistress was almost done with her meal. With a final flash of steel, the poor fools pain came to an end as the demon in the chairs shape changed from a muscle-toned black beast to a shapely female figure. Jaxton had seen her true forms many times, but never calmed the primal fear it always instilled in him.
“I trust you enjoyed tonight’s meal, mistress?” He asked.
“Very tender, send the butcher my regards. Do you have a reason to be here.. or are you my dessert?” She ran a claw from the corner of her mouth to her exposed breast, teasing her nipple as she bit her lip.
“I have information. As well as dessert for you, my mistress.” Jaxton stepped forward, putting a file on her desk, next to the eviscerated man. His cold dead eyes stared into Jaxton’s, an eternal snapshot of fear and suffering on his face. She opened the file to see a multitude of pictures of Roman, Liz, and Willow apprehending the bikers, as well as a close up of Roman’s face.
“The trap we set worked perfectly, and we have informants gathering all we can on the man.”
The demon moaned softly as she stared at the picture of Roman.
“I want him for myself, I think I can find the perfect use for him.”
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2 thoughts on “Mon-Hum Squad: Chapter 4”

  1. Glad you’re back, however it seems to me that you’re rushing the story too much, we barely know about some of these characters and yet by the way they’re interacting with each other it all seems forced. Still waiting for next chapter.

  2. Its muzzle brake (as in slowing something down). Next error I spotted was a missing *s* to make round into rounds (fired). Need a *t* to make ‘he’ into ‘the’ (more higher-end clubs), and I would suggest losing the ‘more’.

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