“Oh, sweet
Mercury! What did you put in it, piss?” Brimley complained.
“Yes. That’s
the secret to warming it up. I piss in it,” Santos retorted.
“Oh, now I
don’t want it,” Brimley held the coffee cup away from her while looking for a
place to put it down.
“Here. Let
me,” Santos offered.
She mock
handed him the cup, which he genuinely took, eliciting her to whine, “hey, give
that back.”
In the living
room, Cassie whispered, “it doesn’t make sense,” to Archel who kept one
enormous eagle eye on the bickering soldiers. “Do people never grow up?”
“Chess,”
Archel murmured. In stifling a yawn, all the feathers on his head and neck went
ridged. “Game,” he exhaled. “Ooh,” he moaned, “I dreamed I was…” His
beak fell and his lion’s shoulders slumped.
