05.08.08
A bit of randomness.
The madman aimed the gun. Kathleen unsheathed her knives and prepared to jump at him.
A thin stream of white-hot flames shot past her ear, roasting the madman before he could squeeze off a shot. Kathleen blinked and turned.
Dr. Cain stood behind her, coughing slightly. He clicked his tongue, then said, “What no one tells you is that your mouth tastes like a charcoal briquette for hours afterwards.” He coughed again.
Kathleen stared, then dug around in her pocket and wordlessly handed him a peppermint.
Detective Jones stuck her head out of the car’s window. “I don’t want to know how you know what a charcoal briquette tastes like.”
Cain stuck his tongue out at her, popped the mint in his mouth, and walked off, hands in his pockets and nose in the air.
