The Devil's Nest, Saturday Evening, 6/18
"If these scratches don't buff out of my jacket and boots," Bo said to Tiny with a growl, "I am hunting down every robotic spider-web between here and Topeka and kicking the robotic shit out of it." She punctuated that by stomping violently on the next little silver monster to scuttle through the doors. It crumpled under her sole with a sad radiophonic squeal.
Don't mess with the leather, kids.
[Open! With occasional chance of spider.]
Don't mess with the leather, kids.
[Open! With occasional chance of spider.]