LOHDUTUS
Oh, nothing.
Fan-bloody-tastic. How generous of this...this...whoever this utter prick was to have no ulterior motive other than the base knowledge. Evelynn withered, her eyes rolling as if she had just heard the words 'live, laugh, love' writ large upon the mural of her own skull.
Nothing, indeed.
Now she had to judge if this was a lie or if once again Evelynn had fallen victim to her own modern irrelevancy. Wonderful! That's just how she always longed to spend her evenings, sitting on the edge never knowing whether she meant nothing or was instead worth a blaster bolt between the eyes. Who didn't love that kind of life-threatening uncertainty!
What was she doing before the time of death?
Pretending to be a dissatisfied trophy wife, sir.
It appears you're still under the impression that this charade is going to continue, Evelynn rattled off as she turned away from the monumental wanker, sinking into the booth seating with folded arms like a petulant teenager who had been forced to attend Aunt Vivienne's sixty-third birthday meal, you really are Mike Hunt.
With her mental voice the emphasis could be laid in the correct places.
Fan-bloody-tastic. How generous of this...this...whoever this utter prick was to have no ulterior motive other than the base knowledge. Evelynn withered, her eyes rolling as if she had just heard the words 'live, laugh, love' writ large upon the mural of her own skull.
Nothing, indeed.
Now she had to judge if this was a lie or if once again Evelynn had fallen victim to her own modern irrelevancy. Wonderful! That's just how she always longed to spend her evenings, sitting on the edge never knowing whether she meant nothing or was instead worth a blaster bolt between the eyes. Who didn't love that kind of life-threatening uncertainty!
What was she doing before the time of death?
Pretending to be a dissatisfied trophy wife, sir.
It appears you're still under the impression that this charade is going to continue, Evelynn rattled off as she turned away from the monumental wanker, sinking into the booth seating with folded arms like a petulant teenager who had been forced to attend Aunt Vivienne's sixty-third birthday meal, you really are Mike Hunt.
With her mental voice the emphasis could be laid in the correct places.