"He got better." Sleuth eyes him again. "It don't look that bad. You're movin' a hell of a lot faster than he was, at least."
That sounds like a euphemism for he was in final negotiations for the farm—wait, damn, that's two euphemisms—but Sleuth's being literal; Tootsie Roll Pickle Inspector was a slow piece of shit.
"Here it is." Sleuth stops at a long table flush against the wall and gives one of its legs a good kick. It rattles the items on top—useless bric-a-brac, for the most part, except for one or two things in the vague neighborhood of "pointy". A slinky flops to its side, impotently.
no subject
That sounds like a euphemism for he was in final negotiations for the farm—wait, damn, that's two euphemisms—but Sleuth's being literal; Tootsie Roll Pickle Inspector was a slow piece of shit.
"Here it is." Sleuth stops at a long table flush against the wall and gives one of its legs a good kick. It rattles the items on top—useless bric-a-brac, for the most part, except for one or two things in the vague neighborhood of "pointy". A slinky flops to its side, impotently.