“Address, Mr. Fox?” the cabbie asks while stupidly taking his life into his own hands. I widen my eyes at the gun the man pulls and points at Fox, who immediately breaks the guy’s arm by bending it in ways it should not go, takes the gun, and stabs the cabbie with a knife that appears out of the air like magic. Well, that fixes the problem with having to tell him my address. “Address?” Fox asks again as he gets out of the cab. Never mind; the problem is not fixed. I watch in awe as he pulls the cabbie out of the car and then sits in the driver’s seat. So this is happening. Yay. The best thing
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