One day in London, circa
1890, James
Worthington, Thomas Haley, and William
Cowper were just hanging out at the lab with their Starbucks Mochachinos, calculating the
orbits of moons, looking through microscopes, and whatnot, when Haley jumped up and exclaimed, "Cowper, don't move! Stay exactly the way you are!"
Worthington had his eye on the microscope looking at some platelets, when he turned toward Cowper, who was stroking himself absentmindedly. This was nothing unusual in the course of things, but Haley rummaged through the flasks and vials, and found a long q-tip and a
test tube, and stepped gingerly toward
Cowper's member.
"What on earth are you doing, Haley?!" Worthington implored.
"Sshush, James! You'll scare it away."
Haley reached in, as if offering a perch to a
hummingbird and gently dabbed the end of Cowper's manhood, giving the stick gentle half turns with each dip. "Alas, I have it."
Cowper was sitting as if in a stupor, and relaxed the hold on his dick. He was experimenting with a technique his colleague Jefferson
Kegel had shown him, and so was a bit otherwise absorbed.
They placed the q-tip under the slide and each took a taste. "Hmmm, it's not quite jism, is it Worthy?"
"No, something different.
Cowper's fluid is somehow unique."
"And so it is," Haley announced. "Henceforth this stuff from the end of Bill's nub will be called "Cowper's fluid."
There was much rejoicing and merriment, and the ladies brought in trays of whiskey and a violin was produced. A great celebration was had by all.