"Let me guess," the man said, staring at the pool of his own blood he was leaving on the ground. "Just had the carpet cleaned?" "Replaced, actually," I replied, strutting towards him confidently. "From the last time someone came in and poured their blood on my floor."
I mutter this under my breath at least a hundred times a day. And I really am praying when I say this. Though I know that patience isn't an attribute He's chosen to bless me with, so the untraceable handgun is looking more likely. But then again, I'd have to decide who I'd like to shoot first. Probably myself.
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"Oh, yeah, sure. let's escape from the special forces by kidnapping their secret lab experiment and hope he doesn't murder us! I" Beckett throws his hands in the air. "He's unconscious. We're safer for now," says Haylin, letting down Heath's limp body on the dusty coach. "And what is this that I hear that he can mind control people? How is that safe?" "First of all, that's just a rumor. Second of all, I said we were safer, not safe. Who knows how he will react once he wakes up."
"You're still here... and you're making pancakes?" He stared at the boy while flipping one, caught it in midair in his mouth, and chewed. And chewed. "Tough as tires." He grabbed the syrup and poured some in, gargling. The boy grimaced. "You were supposed to leave." He frowned, propping his cloven hooves on the rungs of the barstool. "Oh, right. Well, one thing you'll learn while questing, is to never travel on an empty stomach, Kale." "Basil. My name is Basil."