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"Tiffany, dear, I'm not going to pretend to believe you, so why don't you and your equally asinine friend skedaddle before i test ... before I test ... uh ..." Great. The girl holding the gun didn't have enough intelligence to string two words together. "... before I ... test dear William's strength."

Tiffany would have laughed it off, if not for the rifle in Rifle Girl's hands.

"So, hands where I can see them? Wonderful. Now be good and take 200 paces ... that way." She waved in some direction. Tiffany almost wanted to take her out, just to put her in her place, but two things stated otherwise: the first was, of course, the rifle. The second? Quincy.

"Let's go. No need to fight here." Quincy backed away from Rifle Girl, keeping his eyes on her. No way could she fight through this. Best to just back away.

Tiffany joined Quincy in leaving the area, her golf club trailing the ground, and didn't even bother looking away until she couldn't see any brown hair in the distance.

I'm going to get that bitch ...

((Tiffany Chanders continued in Later, Buddy))
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Facile Princeps · The Felled Forest: South