(no subject)
Wells hasn't had time to get to Brichester today, between the goats and the school and the phone call from his parents and everything else. It's left him bloody sour-tempered, to say the least. Well, there's one cure for that that damn near always works: gratuitous violence.
Those poor, poor paper targets. They never saw the bullets coming.
Those poor, poor paper targets. They never saw the bullets coming.