“Here are the things I need right now, as a silly little slut, damp and bedraggled in an alley, scrabbling in the dirt with the possums,” he said with an injured little sniffle. “I need you to be interested in the terrible accident that befell me, and I need you to vaguely consider the idea of rescuing the shit out of me so that the maximum amount of Araşti badness does not happen to me. Think of the possums, think of how traumatized they will be. I will be arrested right in front of them, and tortured, and killed, and dismembered, and fed to tigers, and—”
