Calladia joined him at the door, thread stretched taut between her fingers. “Let’s Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid this shit.” Astaroth had a vague recollection that perhaps that story hadn’t worked out so well. “Which one are you?” he asked. “And wait, didn’t they die?” Calladia grabbed the knob and ripped the door open. “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker!”
