[ His bad luck is her great luck. She skitters to a stop a ways back, grin tamped down to a smirk, and immediately pulls out the slingshot again to take aim. ]
End of the line, spud. [ ...no, okay, she can't say that with a straight face, and there might be a muffled laugh over here. ]
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End of the line, spud. [ ...no, okay, she can't say that with a straight face, and there might be a muffled laugh over here. ]