> “I could have had a future,†she berated Arnie J. Armbruster, sometimes-attorney-at-law. “I could have married a billionaire, or started a dot com, or gone on American Idol.â€Â
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those are futures? Short sells, more like...
> Cody had the gift of translating all languages. “It seemed to be a literal statement,†he judged, looking at Nats. “The dude really was hunting down a bit of wood.â€Â
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It might be intersting to see what happens if he is exposed to Alko or its precedessors.
> “No, honestly. In nothing but a pair of Argyle golf socks, carrying nothing but his chequebook.â€Â
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Not... Naah.
> Ebony sighed. “Look, I’ve had a busy day trying to chase down some bloody Tenchi marquette on e-bay that involved me slipping back three weeks to get a Paypal account then going to the fourteenth century to prevent the vendor’s ancestor being burned by the Church of Conformity before he had kids. I don’t have time for major discussion. So I’ll just strip off the illusion hiding Turnwise’s true appearance and we’ll cut to the screaming.â€Â
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Yup. That sounds about right. Some of the rarer stuff is a little more difficult to find.
> “Nats may not wish to pursue this matter further,†interjected the Shoggoth suddenly. The loathsome elder being coughed almost nervously, regurgitating a manga edition of Super Spidey Stories in Japanese. “Perhaps we should just consider purchasing him a new jacket. Or Samantha Bonnington could create him one. She has been waiting in Hatman’s office for some time eager to intern and wishing to serve him in a range of capacities.â€Â
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They never listen...
> “Some mysteries are good,†the Shoggoth argued. Then he sighed. “But tell humans not to go poking into something and they’re bound to investigate why. Go ahead. See Vincent De Soth. Chase down the taxis. Just don’t blame me when the world ends. Again.â€Â
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Nope. They never listen...
> Sidney Fletcher was a hunter. He was a man with a mission. He stalked the mean streets of the urban jungle and his prey never escaped him. Well, not often.
>
> He had the enemy in his sights right now. It lay unsuspecting washed in the flickering light of a failing streetlamp. It was helpless.
>
> He reached into his pocket and pulled out his ticket pad. The vehicle was blocking a hydrant, too near to the street corner to be safely parked.
>
> “Got you at last,†whispered Sidney Fletcher. Finally, the traffic cop would bag the ultimate prey.
>
> The Ghost Taxi allowed him to get within three feet before disappearing. Again.
>
> Sidney’s anguished screams echoed out across the urban jungle.
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Out of interest, does he have the mustache?
> And then a frizzled ginger head peered round the doorway of the caller’s booth and went, “Ooh!†The girl dodged back inside the cabin and grabbed the microphone.
>
> “Um…?†puzzled Nats.
>
> “Hey, listen up everybody!†came the excited call from the ginger girl behind the security screens. “Bill Reed’s arrived! Everybody come and see the new boss!â€Â
>
> Bill Reed said a very bad word.
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Next Issue: Nats vs DiVito?
Or is he DiVito?
