Lindianne, breathing hard from the blitz attack on Voodoo, takes a moment to rally. She takes the simunition gun from Rabbit. She holds it up, sighting down the barrel at poor Voodoo. Then a smile spreads across her face. It isn't a nice smile.
"It would be my pleasure," she croons. "After all, I'm a Mets fan." The snicker that comes out of her would be enough to give even the most hardened NYPD cop the willies. (In the weeks to come, Lindianne will do everything she can to hide her own birthdate from the SEALs. Turnabout is not, in fact, fair play.)
There's no hesitation when she shoots him in the arm. With an exaggerated flourish, she holds the gun back out towards Rabbit. "Your weapon, sir."
The entire situation is so ridiculous that it loops back around to being funny.
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Lindianne, breathing hard from the blitz attack on Voodoo, takes a moment to rally. She takes the simunition gun from Rabbit. She holds it up, sighting down the barrel at poor Voodoo. Then a smile spreads across her face. It isn't a nice smile.
"It would be my pleasure," she croons. "After all, I'm a Mets fan." The snicker that comes out of her would be enough to give even the most hardened NYPD cop the willies. (In the weeks to come, Lindianne will do everything she can to hide her own birthdate from the SEALs. Turnabout is not, in fact, fair play.)
There's no hesitation when she shoots him in the arm. With an exaggerated flourish, she holds the gun back out towards Rabbit. "Your weapon, sir."
The entire situation is so ridiculous that it loops back around to being funny.