DRAW, SPADES.

  “Ye want me to fuckin’ stab you or somethin’?”

  “… Ye did what now?” He should be surprised – only that he isn’t, not too much anyway. It was to be expected really, especially after the prospitian’s loving nature.

  “… Huh?” Impulsively, the carapacian looks over his shoulder – only to find an all-too familiar figure standing behind him. “The hell? What the fuck do you want?”

  “Hn… Lady, please.”

  “You know it.”

  “What?”

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gf..........................