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“You fucking maddening, suicidal, infuriating hell spawn,” Jude growls, interrupting me again. “I realize I’m technically hell spawn, but I find name-calling to only be fun when I’m the one creating the names,”
“Someone please tell me what to say to make you see it my way,”
I need to remember to ask the Judge that next time I'm in traffic court
Jude finally pushes off, turns on his heel, and stalks out, yelling behind him, “I can’t handle her right now. Someone else make her stop being ridiculous so I can effectively yell at her some more!”
You’ll need answers to the puzzle you’ve laid. To seek such, refer to all things from your favorite decade. Oh, great. I’m a rhyming riddler in here, it seems.
“I’m apparently a child of the Devil. Games are just a part of my genetic makeup. I’d apologize, but I don’t have the ability to feel guilt,” I state dryly. “Now, were you my first? You seem a little territorial over my vagina right now.”
I need a handbook: How to Sync Mensies with Your Harem.
comoara trădătoare,”
I finally googled how to pronounce this phrase and was SO disappointed, I always imagined the second word sounding more like trader instead of Rad Ta Da noises the actual pronunciation sounds like. Mainly I'm annoyed that I can't pronounce it properly
These are the fucked up new days of my life. It was so much simpler when I was just a lonely, shameless, perverted phantom girl.
“Taco blocko?” he groans. “Beaver dammed?” I amend. He blinks at me. “Twat swatted?” I suggest when the other two seem to puzzle him. He just glares at me when he realizes I could do this all day. “Clam jammed…” I let the words trail off and decide to stop when he starts looking slightly murderous.
“Logically I know that. However, I’m finding it tedious to be a good girl, because I’m hell spawn,” I state very seriously.
Jude’s eyes meet mine, and he darts a glance to the crown before saying, “Fucking figures.” I snort. “Says Death as he holds his scythe,” I fire back, an arched eyebrow accompanying my snark. “Who’s the real stereotype in this scenario?” I add with a fuck-you smile.
“The only Rafael I know is green, wears a pointless red mask on his eyes, and is a hero in a half shell,”
“The mask is pointless on those turtles. What other mutant turtles are out there doing karate under the tutelage of a giant sewer rat? It’s one case where a superhero’s secret identity is—” “My brother, Rafael, is an archangel born of unbiased purities with the power to deliver swift and harsh judgment,” Lucifer bites out, interrupting my ramble.
“You’re pretty judgmental for a murderous psychopath with a halo. Curious. Do you have wings? Are angels allowed to have sex?”
Turning my head from side to side, looking over one shoulder and then the other, I listen as the angel and Devil argue back and forth. I shake my head, wondering how this metaphor just got so real.
“Unbelievable,” I mutter. “Saving your lives didn’t earn me trust, but finding out I’m the catalyst to your demise makes things just peachy. You really are psychos.”
“What’s the goal of this?” “Save Princess Peach,” he immediately replies. “Excellent. I’m a rock star at saving ungrateful princesses,” I muse. He chokes back a sound of amusement, and I grin. “Tell them I said that, and I’ll have to kill you,”
Awwww. Are they fighting over me? I’m not sure how I feel about Hell’s Black Heart making them suddenly appreciate me. If they feel gratitude, they’re enjoying the wrong Paca. I’ll cut them if it’s not this new and less-improved version of me they’re suddenly adoring.
“I bet it looks like a unicorn,” I state very seriously as I sit up. They all blink at me. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s exactly what it looks like,” Jude states flatly.
“But seriously, a unicorn makes perfect sense. Who would expect this horrifying power of destruction we’re expected to face to look anything less than like a unicorn?”
“Why does it have to be a unicorn?” Gage asks like he’s reluctant to do so…but just can’t help himself because he’s a bit of a masochist. I quit struggling and give him all my attention, even as Ezekiel keeps me strapped to his lap. “Because it’d be the perfect balance. Who expects something that shits rainbows to be the end of the world? Unicorns only make sense if they’re evil…” I wait a minute to let that sink in before giving them a conspiratorial nod.
“What the hell was that?” I demand very seriously. Without hesitation, Jude steps in behind me and lowers his head next to mine, staring with me at the static. “Not a fucking unicorn,” he deadpans.
“That’s it. I’m out,” I state as I turn and walk away from this shit. “You guys can handle this one on your own.” I’m not messing with anything in the damn bowels. Creatures that hell finds to be its shit? Fuck that racket.
