"...I'm still here, you know..."
"GAH!!" Mick spittled everywhere.
Just not in the way Shirley enjoyed.
"Don't do that!" he exclaimed, not able to come up with a more profound way of expressing himself.
"Listen, nothing personal..." Pro shrugged. "...but, I just find that when I let someone else perceive me outside of my own grasp of the universe, they usually end up having me sound like I was written by Warren Ellis, or something..."
"You mean like you end every story understating how cool you are, and how you could take on God and kick his ass?"
"More or less, yeah..." Prometheus said, lighting another smoke. "...I'm just waiting for the day I'm said to have kicked a frozen nosferatu's nads off..."
"No smoking!" Shirley yelled.
"My god, Mick...could you write her less...you know....nitpicky?"
