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I have faced the most terrifying enemies on the battlefield. I have been outnumbered ten to one and lived to tell the tale. But Ozzy gives me the shits.
I don’t care if they’re divine beings, I will crush their skulls in my hands and use their testicles for tiddlywinks.”
By Jupiter’s hairy butthole, I’d love to try a finger sandwich.
“That’s what you get for messing with Buffalo Crumperbunts!” “His name is Benedict Cumberbatch,” I say. Pax’s smile grows wide with mischief. “Bumblesnuff Crimpysnitch.” “You’re ridiculous.”
“Why doesn’t Bonkyhort Cuttlefish simply pull out his sword and run the fiend through?” “It’s Benedict Cumberbatch. And he doesn’t have a sword because not everyone solves their problems with stabbing.” “Why not? It is the most efficient method. If you stab problem, no more problem. See?” Pax dances up to the screen and draws his sword. “Take that, foul vappa! You have the breath of sour wine! How dare you sully the name of Bendynoodle Custardbath.”
“Pax has explained to me what happened, but I’m more confused than ever. Is Butterscotch Cutiebrunch the grizzled army commander or the tough-as-nails pub brawler?” “Neither.”
“So that’s Birdiebeak Cribblysnitch,” Edward drawls as he slides into the empty seat. “Pax is right. He does look like me.” “He does not,” I snap, hoping Edward doesn’t notice the blush creeping into my cheeks. Because with his sharp cheekbones and mop of dark hair, they kind of do look similar.
It felt amazing to have her fingers nestled in mine. How could such a simple touch make butterflies flutter in my chest when I once had an orgy on top of a pile of gold in the Royal Mint and didn’t even break into a sweat?
“By Jupiter’s blue balls, I have waited thousands of years for a woman like Bree. I won’t waste a moment of this night lamenting what we cannot do.”
