37 - 9 - Tobias
- Tobias soared in after me, flared, pulled up, and dove for Assistant Principal Chapman.
- Chapman swatted at the red-tailed hawk menacing him.
- Big mistake.
- Chapman fell back into an overstuffed armchair, the kind Bruce Wayne and rich old men in smoking jackets are supposed to laze around in. Lines of bright red blood trickled down his cheeks. The owner bent and grabbed something from behind a counter.
- <No you don't.> Marco none too gently removed the thirty-eight special from the man's shaking hand. <Smoking and playing with loaded weapons? Tsk, tsk.>
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