... Lots of .

"Holy titty-fucking Christ," Mike gasps.

You're surrounded by row after row of metal shelves. Each is piled high with boxes, tubs, and other containers, and it's clear what's in them: ****. Some of the clear-plastic containers are overflowing with pills, while others are full of colorful powders and liquids.

It's the labels that really catch your eye, though. Most have a scientific-sounding name followed by a simple description of their effects.

There are aphrodisiacs and fertility enhancers, ranging in strength from "low-potency" to "not for human consumption." There are also boxes of what seem to be hormone supplements, with names like "swelling and lactation," "targeted weight gain," and even "sexual reassignment." The lattermost boxes are labelled "F to M," "M to F," "F to H," or "M to H."

Finally, some of the **** don't seem to do anything related to body modification. These boxes have descriptions more along the lines of "general intelligence loss," "seminal fluid addiction," and "increased obedience/submissiveness."

You and your friend wander between the shelves, gawking at the seemingly endless supply of ****. After a few seconds, your friend speaks up.

"I... I've never even heard of most of this stuff. Some of it seems fake... Impossible, y'know?"

You shrug. "I guess Pearson's is ahead of the curve. Look at these warning labels, too... Half of these **** haven't passed clinical testing." You grab a bottle of pills from a large crate. "This one specifically said that it failed human trials. It's some kinda male aphrodisiac, and one of the side-effects is 'partial or total neglect of non-sexual motivations, including personal safety.' And that's one of the better ones... Some of the female pills are downright scary."

"Jeez, that's..." Mike clears his throat. "We should leave, right?"

"Yeah, definitely," you mumble, reaching into another box. This one is full of plastic tubs containing blue tablets. Unlike most of the ****, these have attractive, consumer-friendly labels: a woman is drinking from a glass of cloudy-blue liquid. Her button-down top is in the process of ripping open, exposing her tits to the world. The label reads "Upgra-D: Dissolving Formula."

You glance around the room, and your eyes settle on a plastic bag dispenser. You quickly move over to it, grab a bag, and put the tub of "Upgra-D" inside.

"John, what are you--No. Nonono!"

"Yes," you reply matter-of-factly, grabbing a bottle of aphrodisiacs and throwing them in the bag. "Yes, yes, yes."

Mike practically wails as you work your way down a row of shelves, grabbing one or two containers out of every crate. "We're gonna get in so much trouble... Maybe get arrested..."

"I wouldn't worry about it. Here, catch," you say, throwing him a bottle of penis enlargement pills. "You need 'em more than I do."

That gets a nervous laugh. "...Fuck you." He sighs heavily. "Alright... In for a penny, in for a pound. Gimme a bag."