Adaptador de la c.c.

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They had to use a woman's voice, didnt they? Everything under the sun in this fuckin Taj Mahal except a woman. Where are the dancing girls? What kind of a palace is this, anyway?
She won't even have to do that, Durnik. All you need to be called a king in Angarak society is a hint of royal blood, a coronation ceremony, and recognition by a major Grolim priest.
They began to fade away, only that wasn't right. They didn't fade away they dove down into the solid rock. He moved as if in a trance toward the cliff.
And it was this darkness at noon, this anomaly, this black adaptador de la hole in his human horizon, that drew her inexorably, until he was the only thing of which she was aware.
The blood was singing in her veins and most of her fear had been washed away by adrenalin by the time Gilla dusted herself off and resumed her progress.
Peter Holland, director of the Central Intelligence Agency, rose to his feet behind his desk and roared at the crippled man seated in front of him.
The old fool, Merdon grumbled- He knows I la c.c. didn't mean it that way. Altai asked, How did you mean it? Now don't you start arguing against me!