“Christ, Dresden! You almost got me killed!” “Don’t be a baby. You’re fine.” Thomas frowned at me. “You at least could have told me!” “I did tell you,” I said. “I told you at Mac’s that I’d give you a ride home, but that I had to run an errand first.” Thomas scowled. “An errand is getting a tank of gas or picking up a carton of milk or something. It is not getting chased by flying purple pyromaniac gorillas hurling incendiary poo.”
