Tony (pronounced with an “ah,” not an “oh”) stomps up to me and points her finger directly into my chest. She’s just a bit taller than me, which helps to cement the fact that I’m about to get beaten up really bad and then murdered. I defeated that cyborg Donald Blyth, but I ain’t gonnna beat Tony.
“Sandra told me all about your garbage shit,” she says to me with the ferocity of, well, someone fierce. I’m too frightened to come up with anything clever. “Get out of my store or I’ll gut you like I gutted the catfish I caught this weekend.”
“You’re a fisher?” I can’t help myself; I really can’t. I’m going to die and I still can’t help myself.
“Shut up!”Continue reading