Eighty-Eight Lines About Forty-Four Dead Guys 1/?... MSTing again...
So, a friend passes on this fic series to me called "Eighty-Eight Lines About Forty-Four Dead Guys." I bring the files home and pop them open to take a peek... I saw, immediately, that it's X-Men based and was suddenly assaulted by the mental voices that often happen when I see something that BEGS to be poked fun at.
And here we are... The first of these grotesque, hideous things that don't even have the morbid fascination of a train wreck.
Eighty Eight lines about Fourty Four Dead Guys
Steahl is to blame for this. Every last word of it. Okay, at least the part where Rogue's in Apocalyspe's tomb. The rest just sort of happened without my knowledge or permission..
I own naught.
***
Remy: (Not looking happy) Wait a minute, chere… What de fuck is dis?
Mish: Don’t ask me, Gumbo. I just started reading the file, too.
Donnie: (frowns) I don’t like this already. Anybody who passes blame for a file on someone else is just asking to get blamed for EVERYTHING.
Yohji: (looks around) Well, not seeing anything to do with Weiß so far. (gives a thumbs up)
Scott fell slowly, as if the world had screeched into slow motion. Rogue watched it. The horror was swept away as a pair of strong arms grabbed her and hauled her out of the way. The owner of the arms and Rogue were caught in the perimeter of a large explosion that sent the building collapsing on itself. The arms tried to pull Rogue out with them. But something grabbed them, and neglected to see Rogue. She fell, smacking her head on the ground, rendering her unconscious.
Donnie: Oh-kay. And here’s where I ask, in the nicest possible way, “What the fuck?!?”
Mish: (shrugs) Got me. I don’t ask anymore.
Remy: (sinking in his seat) Chere, we *really* need t’ talk after dis.
Mish: (smiles too sweetly) About what… mon ami?
Rogue came to and found herself in a basement. The floor had given way. She saw that she had a large cut along her ribs, very deep and bleeding a lot.
Rogue's uniform was useless for use as a bandage. So she wandered around the adjacent area, looking for a bandage, or a shirt, or clothing of some sort. She found Scott's body. It was miraculously untouched. Only the large gash in his head gave away the secret that he wasn't just sleeping.
Yohji: Her uniform was useless? I highly doubt that. Shit, even a pair of relatively clean underwear is useful in a pinch. You’re telling me that Skunk-Bitch was running commando?
Mish: Well, I agree her uniform was useless… Unless you’re male, American, interested in bimbos, and reasonably imaginative about… well, need I go on?
Donnie: (glaring) No, thanks. Got the point.
Rogue ripped his shirt off of him. His bare chest caught her undivided attention. She put his shirt down and ran a gloveless hand over his face. No pull of her powers. He was dead. Rogue explored his face, marveling in the feeling of his skin under hers. He was still warm.
Mish: (Rogue) Sorry, shugah… Need to borrow this.
Yohji: (Scott) That’s fine… Not really needing it anymore, anyway.
Donnie: (Rogue) Ya know, while Ah’m at it… You’re nice and warm…
Remy: (reaches out and smacks Donnie upside the head) We not goin’ dere… now or ever.
Rogue bound her wound, watching Scott's body carefully. She had never wanted to do this. Well, she had, but not with a dead guy. She wondered if the dark clothes had sunk into the inner core of her brain, and even dead men looked sexy now.
Scott's body was twisted at a weird angle. Like his head had been on a pillow, and someone had pulled it away, and the head had tried to follow, dragging the body with it. Rogue straightened him out so he was laying flat. She'd never wanted someone so completely.
Remy: (glaring even more, card in hand) I t’ink we seen enough, mes amis.
Yohji: Dear, God… Please tell me I’m just having a nightmare.
Mish: This is fantasy, get real. It’s happening.
Donnie: Wow, not even a whole page into the story and Rogue’s about to fuck a dead guy…
It took minimal persuasion for a decision to be made. She may never get the chance to do this again. Rogue spread Scott's body out flat. It was hard to do without his help. She stripped the remains of his uniform off as well. He lay naked and prone under Rogue's lustful gaze.
Jean was trying to get in to look for Scott. Logan wasn't letting her. He'd had to be dragged out by Colossus when Rogue had been hurt. Now he was watching for any sign of movement without much hope.
Mish: (blinking - repeatedly) Okay, where the fuck did that last paragraph come from?
Donnie: Why are you asking me? I didn’t write this.
Yohji: (shrugs and raises his hand) Hi, blond and clueless here. Thank God.
Rogue wondered how she would get Scott's body to cooperate. Arousal was caused by blood pressure, Hank's psyche pointed out. This knowledge did Rogue no good. But she knew about rigor mortis. Maybe it would aid her. It was supposed to set in quickly. So Rogue positioned Scott and waited, looking over herself for additional wounds. She also stripped and tried to imagine that Scott's eyes were following every move her body made in restless anticipation. That she was withholding some paradise from the man she wanted to have sex with.
Donnie: Well, judge, you see… I didn’t know the cat was dead when I started fucking it…
Yohji: (blinks and looks at the mutant) Come again?
Mish: (claps a hand over Yohji’s mouth) That’s okay, don’t need a repeat, thanks, Donnie-kins.
Eventually she got impatient rubbing her body for a deadman's amusement. Her hands kept straying to her vagina. She had tried to stop them, but now accepted they had a life of their own. She moved so that she was on top of Scott's body. This way, if he still wasn't ready for her to play with, she could allow her hands to do what they wanted, and pretend the hands were Scott's.
Rogue found, to her pleasure, Scott's body fully ready for her to take. She leaned down and kissed his lips, realizing rigor mortis had given him lock jaw as well. It took a while, and a couple hard hits to Scott's jaw joint for Rogue to deepen the kiss. She explored his not quite warm mouth with her tongue, as her hands roamed over Scott's body.
Donnie: (chances a look at Remy, then looks back at the file) Scientifically speaking, it’d take a lot longer for rigor mortis to actually set in…
Yohji: It really scares me that you know something like that.
Mish: (sighs) I know, I know… blame his writer.
Her legs moved her down so she was rubbing her crotch against Scott's cold gonads. Rogue moaned slightly from the contact. She rubbed against him a few more times, then ground her hips onto him. She cried out, hissing a little. The angle she'd set him at was uncomfortable for laying on top of him.
Rogue sat up and adjusted herself. She imagined Scott's hands caressing her stomach, breasts, thighs, everything he would have been able to reach, had he been alive.
Mish: Okay, a half-page ago, he was still warm to the touch.
Remy: (starts charging the card in his fingers)
Yohji: Uh, Mish… Might wanna send the Cajun out before he goes postal on something.
Donnie: And, well, I’d rather not it be either of you. I’ll stay behind and play sacrificial lamb.
Yohji: (shakes his head) Think she’s going to fall for that?
Mish: (wryly) No, she isn’t.
Logan watched as Jean stormed over to the pyramid. She'd demanded to go in, and t.k.ed Logan too far away to stop her. Gambit was catching up, saying that he couldn't leave two women in danger. Logan muttered about that, and projected his willingness to help locate the bodies. Jean used her telekinesis to pull Logan toward her and complete their search team.
Logan heard a female moan. It had to be Rogue. He motioned for the others to follow him. He could now hear her breathing heavily. He couldn't smell very well, due to the dust, but he knew Rogue was alive. Soon Gambit and Jean could hear her too.
They found Rogue on top of Scott. Gambit walked over first, partially to see if she was okay, and partially to see if she was really having sex.
Yohji: Oh, man… You know, I think I’d rather my girlfriend cheated on me with another girl.
Mish: I think I’d rather the writer of this… I hesitate to say “fic”… put their pen down early… WAY early.
Donnie: I think I’d rather be in Abu Dabi right now.
Mish: Anybody got proper postage? I can get the box to fit us all.
Jean rushed over to her, recognizing Scott's uniform close by. She was horrified of the thought of Scott touching anyone else. Logan was the only one who had a full grasp of the situation. He didn't want to see Rogue naked, and he didn't care if either was cheating on him. Only he remembered Rogue's powers. He understood what was happening.
But he wasn't the only one for long. Remy noticed Scott wasn't moving very much. Make that at all. Jean was trying to make the image leave her mind, to not see Rogue and her man having sex like this.
Mish: Jean, honey, I don’t think your man has much choice. Which is worse: being dead or being dead and raped?
Donnie: I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: at this point, I’ll take what I can get.
Mish & Yohji: PERVERT!
Donnie: What was your first clue?
Rogue didn't notice the voyeurs at first, too caught up in her fantasy world, where a man who was only half Scott was laying under her, sweating and moaning, and whispering endearments that she knew he'd only ever said to her. The world was shattered when her ears caught Jean's sobbing.
"My God," Jean cried, her hands over her mouth, trying to stop the sound. "Rogue?"
Rogue looked at the others. Jean was aghast with horror. Remy looked disgusted and slightly lecherous. Logan simply looked. He didn't seem to be judging her at all. Rogue blushed and looked down. Scott's expression, which she had failed to note before, was one of pain. Rogue slowly stood up, trying to cover herself with her hands.
Jean telekinetically lifted Scott's body, and Remy was talked out of his coat by Logan. They all left Apocalypses tomb, none of them speaking to or looking at each other. It was understood that no one need know. Scott would be remembered better, and Rogue would see more peace, if they didn't find out. Not even he professor could know.
Mish: (turns, looks, and reaches over to poke Remy in the upper arm) Uh… babe? You okay?
Remy: (tight-lipped, white-knuckled, and pissed-off)
Donnie: Hmmm… leave a message at the beep, Mish. He’s not in right now.
Yohji: (reaches out and waves his hand in front of Remy’s face) Don’t tell me he’s gone already.
Mish: Fine, then, I won’t.
Logan was the one to come up with the lies. None of the others were capable of speech. Gambit didn't so much as look at anyone beside the acolytes, and Jean feigned exhaustion from carrying Scott. No one questioned Rogue about her attitude. They knew how she was.
Rogue lay in her room. She was on the floor, looking up at her ceiling. The bed was neatly made, her room clean for once. She didn't want to leave more mess than necessary.
A syringe of morphine laced, by her, with cyanide from Hank's lab (he used it for something or other, she was sure), lay on the floor next to her hand. Rogue fixed her gaze on the one imperfection in the ceiling. A hole, from when Evan had used the room. Small enough to be overlooked by a flustered Ororo, but enough that Rogue noticed it.
Mish: (looking confused) Mew? What the hell?
Donnie: I’m confused, too, but when it comes to the shit you find, that’s nothing new, Mish.
Yohji: Not gonna ask, not gonna ask… Just point me in the direction of the bathroom.
Donnie: (blinks a couple of times) Why?
Yohji: My lunch wants an encore.
Rogue picked the needle up, and looked at it apathetically for a minute or two. Finally, she decided to just do it. She slowly stuck the needle into her arm, averting her gaze back to the ceiling afterward, and staring at the hole that she always saw. Even when the lights were out, the hole on the ceiling was noticeable. She pushed the top of the needle down. The feeling of something cold entering her body registered itself, before a fuzzy feeling over came her.
Rogue felt happier. She breathed deeper. It was so peaceful. Her lungs pulled in more oxygen. If she could only get enough air to enjoy the feeling. Her body didn't seem to realize she was breathing more easily than she had in recent memory. It insisted it was suffocating. A small bit of alarm crept into Rogue's consciousness. The professor, who had been monitoring for something like this since Rogue's power surge, noted it, before brushing it off as a small anxiety attack.
Remy: (snarls, gets up, and walks out)
Mish: (watches the Cajun go) Uh-oh.
Yohji: I got a grand says he’s off looking for the writer.
Donnie: That’s nice and all, but, uh… that kinda screws us.
Mish: Not to worry. I’ve got a backup. (whips out a cell phone and makes a call)
Yohji: (looks at Donnie) I’m starting to think we should worry.
Donnie: I’m starting to think I agree with you. Anyone actually *willing* to put up with something like this isn’t necessarily someone I want to associate with.
Rogue watched the room go darker, and wondered what was happening. Wouldn't her sad, miserable hateful life pass before her eyes? Wouldn't there be a light, or darkness? No, just a fuzzy feeling, like the switch on her body had been set to low, and the same had been done to her mind. With neither a whimper nor a scream, and no regret, Rogue exhaled and died.
Mish: Think she’s got more in that syringe?
Yohji: I doubt she’s up for sharing, Mish.
Mish: Damn…
Donnie: Besides, it wouldn’t work on me.
Yohji: Should we pretend to care about that now or later?
Drizzt: (comes in and takes a seat next to Yohji) I’ve been warned I shouldn’t do this, but no one else would come.
Donnie: (wryly) Gee, I wonder why… Hope you’ve got a cast-iron stomach, Do’Urden.
Mish: Don’t scare him off before he even gets started, Donovan.
I don't know which is scarier, the story or that the writer got favorable reviews for it.
Oh, and for the record - NaNo Word Count: 23,726
And here we are... The first of these grotesque, hideous things that don't even have the morbid fascination of a train wreck.
Eighty Eight lines about Fourty Four Dead Guys
Steahl is to blame for this. Every last word of it. Okay, at least the part where Rogue's in Apocalyspe's tomb. The rest just sort of happened without my knowledge or permission..
I own naught.
***
Remy: (Not looking happy) Wait a minute, chere… What de fuck is dis?
Mish: Don’t ask me, Gumbo. I just started reading the file, too.
Donnie: (frowns) I don’t like this already. Anybody who passes blame for a file on someone else is just asking to get blamed for EVERYTHING.
Yohji: (looks around) Well, not seeing anything to do with Weiß so far. (gives a thumbs up)
Scott fell slowly, as if the world had screeched into slow motion. Rogue watched it. The horror was swept away as a pair of strong arms grabbed her and hauled her out of the way. The owner of the arms and Rogue were caught in the perimeter of a large explosion that sent the building collapsing on itself. The arms tried to pull Rogue out with them. But something grabbed them, and neglected to see Rogue. She fell, smacking her head on the ground, rendering her unconscious.
Donnie: Oh-kay. And here’s where I ask, in the nicest possible way, “What the fuck?!?”
Mish: (shrugs) Got me. I don’t ask anymore.
Remy: (sinking in his seat) Chere, we *really* need t’ talk after dis.
Mish: (smiles too sweetly) About what… mon ami?
Rogue came to and found herself in a basement. The floor had given way. She saw that she had a large cut along her ribs, very deep and bleeding a lot.
Rogue's uniform was useless for use as a bandage. So she wandered around the adjacent area, looking for a bandage, or a shirt, or clothing of some sort. She found Scott's body. It was miraculously untouched. Only the large gash in his head gave away the secret that he wasn't just sleeping.
Yohji: Her uniform was useless? I highly doubt that. Shit, even a pair of relatively clean underwear is useful in a pinch. You’re telling me that Skunk-Bitch was running commando?
Mish: Well, I agree her uniform was useless… Unless you’re male, American, interested in bimbos, and reasonably imaginative about… well, need I go on?
Donnie: (glaring) No, thanks. Got the point.
Rogue ripped his shirt off of him. His bare chest caught her undivided attention. She put his shirt down and ran a gloveless hand over his face. No pull of her powers. He was dead. Rogue explored his face, marveling in the feeling of his skin under hers. He was still warm.
Mish: (Rogue) Sorry, shugah… Need to borrow this.
Yohji: (Scott) That’s fine… Not really needing it anymore, anyway.
Donnie: (Rogue) Ya know, while Ah’m at it… You’re nice and warm…
Remy: (reaches out and smacks Donnie upside the head) We not goin’ dere… now or ever.
Rogue bound her wound, watching Scott's body carefully. She had never wanted to do this. Well, she had, but not with a dead guy. She wondered if the dark clothes had sunk into the inner core of her brain, and even dead men looked sexy now.
Scott's body was twisted at a weird angle. Like his head had been on a pillow, and someone had pulled it away, and the head had tried to follow, dragging the body with it. Rogue straightened him out so he was laying flat. She'd never wanted someone so completely.
Remy: (glaring even more, card in hand) I t’ink we seen enough, mes amis.
Yohji: Dear, God… Please tell me I’m just having a nightmare.
Mish: This is fantasy, get real. It’s happening.
Donnie: Wow, not even a whole page into the story and Rogue’s about to fuck a dead guy…
It took minimal persuasion for a decision to be made. She may never get the chance to do this again. Rogue spread Scott's body out flat. It was hard to do without his help. She stripped the remains of his uniform off as well. He lay naked and prone under Rogue's lustful gaze.
Jean was trying to get in to look for Scott. Logan wasn't letting her. He'd had to be dragged out by Colossus when Rogue had been hurt. Now he was watching for any sign of movement without much hope.
Mish: (blinking - repeatedly) Okay, where the fuck did that last paragraph come from?
Donnie: Why are you asking me? I didn’t write this.
Yohji: (shrugs and raises his hand) Hi, blond and clueless here. Thank God.
Rogue wondered how she would get Scott's body to cooperate. Arousal was caused by blood pressure, Hank's psyche pointed out. This knowledge did Rogue no good. But she knew about rigor mortis. Maybe it would aid her. It was supposed to set in quickly. So Rogue positioned Scott and waited, looking over herself for additional wounds. She also stripped and tried to imagine that Scott's eyes were following every move her body made in restless anticipation. That she was withholding some paradise from the man she wanted to have sex with.
Donnie: Well, judge, you see… I didn’t know the cat was dead when I started fucking it…
Yohji: (blinks and looks at the mutant) Come again?
Mish: (claps a hand over Yohji’s mouth) That’s okay, don’t need a repeat, thanks, Donnie-kins.
Eventually she got impatient rubbing her body for a deadman's amusement. Her hands kept straying to her vagina. She had tried to stop them, but now accepted they had a life of their own. She moved so that she was on top of Scott's body. This way, if he still wasn't ready for her to play with, she could allow her hands to do what they wanted, and pretend the hands were Scott's.
Rogue found, to her pleasure, Scott's body fully ready for her to take. She leaned down and kissed his lips, realizing rigor mortis had given him lock jaw as well. It took a while, and a couple hard hits to Scott's jaw joint for Rogue to deepen the kiss. She explored his not quite warm mouth with her tongue, as her hands roamed over Scott's body.
Donnie: (chances a look at Remy, then looks back at the file) Scientifically speaking, it’d take a lot longer for rigor mortis to actually set in…
Yohji: It really scares me that you know something like that.
Mish: (sighs) I know, I know… blame his writer.
Her legs moved her down so she was rubbing her crotch against Scott's cold gonads. Rogue moaned slightly from the contact. She rubbed against him a few more times, then ground her hips onto him. She cried out, hissing a little. The angle she'd set him at was uncomfortable for laying on top of him.
Rogue sat up and adjusted herself. She imagined Scott's hands caressing her stomach, breasts, thighs, everything he would have been able to reach, had he been alive.
Mish: Okay, a half-page ago, he was still warm to the touch.
Remy: (starts charging the card in his fingers)
Yohji: Uh, Mish… Might wanna send the Cajun out before he goes postal on something.
Donnie: And, well, I’d rather not it be either of you. I’ll stay behind and play sacrificial lamb.
Yohji: (shakes his head) Think she’s going to fall for that?
Mish: (wryly) No, she isn’t.
Logan watched as Jean stormed over to the pyramid. She'd demanded to go in, and t.k.ed Logan too far away to stop her. Gambit was catching up, saying that he couldn't leave two women in danger. Logan muttered about that, and projected his willingness to help locate the bodies. Jean used her telekinesis to pull Logan toward her and complete their search team.
Logan heard a female moan. It had to be Rogue. He motioned for the others to follow him. He could now hear her breathing heavily. He couldn't smell very well, due to the dust, but he knew Rogue was alive. Soon Gambit and Jean could hear her too.
They found Rogue on top of Scott. Gambit walked over first, partially to see if she was okay, and partially to see if she was really having sex.
Yohji: Oh, man… You know, I think I’d rather my girlfriend cheated on me with another girl.
Mish: I think I’d rather the writer of this… I hesitate to say “fic”… put their pen down early… WAY early.
Donnie: I think I’d rather be in Abu Dabi right now.
Mish: Anybody got proper postage? I can get the box to fit us all.
Jean rushed over to her, recognizing Scott's uniform close by. She was horrified of the thought of Scott touching anyone else. Logan was the only one who had a full grasp of the situation. He didn't want to see Rogue naked, and he didn't care if either was cheating on him. Only he remembered Rogue's powers. He understood what was happening.
But he wasn't the only one for long. Remy noticed Scott wasn't moving very much. Make that at all. Jean was trying to make the image leave her mind, to not see Rogue and her man having sex like this.
Mish: Jean, honey, I don’t think your man has much choice. Which is worse: being dead or being dead and raped?
Donnie: I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: at this point, I’ll take what I can get.
Mish & Yohji: PERVERT!
Donnie: What was your first clue?
Rogue didn't notice the voyeurs at first, too caught up in her fantasy world, where a man who was only half Scott was laying under her, sweating and moaning, and whispering endearments that she knew he'd only ever said to her. The world was shattered when her ears caught Jean's sobbing.
"My God," Jean cried, her hands over her mouth, trying to stop the sound. "Rogue?"
Rogue looked at the others. Jean was aghast with horror. Remy looked disgusted and slightly lecherous. Logan simply looked. He didn't seem to be judging her at all. Rogue blushed and looked down. Scott's expression, which she had failed to note before, was one of pain. Rogue slowly stood up, trying to cover herself with her hands.
Jean telekinetically lifted Scott's body, and Remy was talked out of his coat by Logan. They all left Apocalypses tomb, none of them speaking to or looking at each other. It was understood that no one need know. Scott would be remembered better, and Rogue would see more peace, if they didn't find out. Not even he professor could know.
Mish: (turns, looks, and reaches over to poke Remy in the upper arm) Uh… babe? You okay?
Remy: (tight-lipped, white-knuckled, and pissed-off)
Donnie: Hmmm… leave a message at the beep, Mish. He’s not in right now.
Yohji: (reaches out and waves his hand in front of Remy’s face) Don’t tell me he’s gone already.
Mish: Fine, then, I won’t.
Logan was the one to come up with the lies. None of the others were capable of speech. Gambit didn't so much as look at anyone beside the acolytes, and Jean feigned exhaustion from carrying Scott. No one questioned Rogue about her attitude. They knew how she was.
Rogue lay in her room. She was on the floor, looking up at her ceiling. The bed was neatly made, her room clean for once. She didn't want to leave more mess than necessary.
A syringe of morphine laced, by her, with cyanide from Hank's lab (he used it for something or other, she was sure), lay on the floor next to her hand. Rogue fixed her gaze on the one imperfection in the ceiling. A hole, from when Evan had used the room. Small enough to be overlooked by a flustered Ororo, but enough that Rogue noticed it.
Mish: (looking confused) Mew? What the hell?
Donnie: I’m confused, too, but when it comes to the shit you find, that’s nothing new, Mish.
Yohji: Not gonna ask, not gonna ask… Just point me in the direction of the bathroom.
Donnie: (blinks a couple of times) Why?
Yohji: My lunch wants an encore.
Rogue picked the needle up, and looked at it apathetically for a minute or two. Finally, she decided to just do it. She slowly stuck the needle into her arm, averting her gaze back to the ceiling afterward, and staring at the hole that she always saw. Even when the lights were out, the hole on the ceiling was noticeable. She pushed the top of the needle down. The feeling of something cold entering her body registered itself, before a fuzzy feeling over came her.
Rogue felt happier. She breathed deeper. It was so peaceful. Her lungs pulled in more oxygen. If she could only get enough air to enjoy the feeling. Her body didn't seem to realize she was breathing more easily than she had in recent memory. It insisted it was suffocating. A small bit of alarm crept into Rogue's consciousness. The professor, who had been monitoring for something like this since Rogue's power surge, noted it, before brushing it off as a small anxiety attack.
Remy: (snarls, gets up, and walks out)
Mish: (watches the Cajun go) Uh-oh.
Yohji: I got a grand says he’s off looking for the writer.
Donnie: That’s nice and all, but, uh… that kinda screws us.
Mish: Not to worry. I’ve got a backup. (whips out a cell phone and makes a call)
Yohji: (looks at Donnie) I’m starting to think we should worry.
Donnie: I’m starting to think I agree with you. Anyone actually *willing* to put up with something like this isn’t necessarily someone I want to associate with.
Rogue watched the room go darker, and wondered what was happening. Wouldn't her sad, miserable hateful life pass before her eyes? Wouldn't there be a light, or darkness? No, just a fuzzy feeling, like the switch on her body had been set to low, and the same had been done to her mind. With neither a whimper nor a scream, and no regret, Rogue exhaled and died.
Mish: Think she’s got more in that syringe?
Yohji: I doubt she’s up for sharing, Mish.
Mish: Damn…
Donnie: Besides, it wouldn’t work on me.
Yohji: Should we pretend to care about that now or later?
Drizzt: (comes in and takes a seat next to Yohji) I’ve been warned I shouldn’t do this, but no one else would come.
Donnie: (wryly) Gee, I wonder why… Hope you’ve got a cast-iron stomach, Do’Urden.
Mish: Don’t scare him off before he even gets started, Donovan.
I don't know which is scarier, the story or that the writer got favorable reviews for it.
Oh, and for the record - NaNo Word Count: 23,726