“Angry Elf, do you read me? Over.” She mutters under her breath, but I can hear it. “He’s going to see what the hell angry looks like.” Then she brings the walkie-talkie to her mouth. “Rowan, come back to the house so Crew can talk.” “Angry Elf, this is Skittle Titties, do you copy? Over.” Her face turns a shade of red and she groans loudly. Then she forcibly grips the communication device. “Rowan! I swear to God! You are going to taste the rainbow of your teeth if you keep this up.” “Ten-four, Angry Elf. Message received. Over.”
