"That's it, asshole," snarled the lank-haired man. He swung his fist, impacting John's torso right below the sternum. The man's eyes widened, and he reeled back a step, shaking his hand as though he'd punched a steel door.
Which he functionally had.
John glanced at me over his assailant's shoulder, eyes wide with incipient panic. I mimed grasping my stomach and retching, and John's face lit up.
"Oh, God!" he cried, doubling over abruptly. "My spleen! My spleen is broken! Oh, it hurts!"
I closed my eyes and sighed. Even my expertise at getting beaten up only went so far.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment