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Courtesy of their tempers, both were now dressed in the Captain Asshole costume—which included, for no extra charge, the cape of disgrace, the booties of shame, and keys to the Fuck Up mobile.
If he’d wanted to, he could have ripped their throats out in the blink of an eye … then thrown the carcasses on a spit over a fire, basted them for a couple of hours, and had them for dinner with an ear of corn and a bag of chips. Shadows had a unique way of disposing of their enemies. Tums, anyone?
