"You want to what me?" I had to cough like five times to clear all the food I'd mistakenly swallowed from laughing.
"Hunt you, you are a wiley creature more than capable of providing perfect sport for myself." Wiley creature, mark that down folks one of the nicest things someone has ever said about me.
"Right and by that you mean I can kill you right now and not have to worry about being hunted at all. Look Quinton you have a nice spooky house full of trophies you probably did not earn, but lets be honest here I'm not someone that is taken lightly and you look like a fop, not just any kind of fop but a cheap one." Fop is an insult, you can look up the meaning elsewhere because I don't know the exact one, but Quinton fit it exactly, trust me.
"Such a pithy comment from someone already poisoned." I'd like to say this was a surprise, and it kind of was, but you know with the richly prepared foods I should have expected poison (this is something I should expect everday, its why I drink Val's beers, I'm assuming that the swill will eventually make me immune to every toxin in the known universe).
"I don't feel any..." And then I siezed up like a horse bit by a snake, all of my muscles spasmed at once and I fell out of my chair foam leaking from my mouth on to the carpet. Shorties an army of them came in to lift my paralyzed self up.
"Take him out to the river and toss him in, if he can't survive that he wasn't worth the effort to hunt anyway." I wanted to say something about how I needed a bath, but all I could manage was just more foam coming out of my mouth. I tell you I hate when everyone else is right and I'm wrong, which is a good thing that never ever happens ever.
Ever. Also No spider monsters today.
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