“Well, the good news is,” Five said, and that wasn’t usually the one he liked to lead in with, but clearly it was going to be a day of exceptions, and not rules, “you got in and out so fast, I don’t think anybody actually got a good look at you.”
Could that even be called good news? Could Five actually call that good news? When he stopped to think about it, a little time behind bars might sober Klaus up for good. (Or it might traumatize Klaus beyond description, as prisons did tend to, but these things were never predictable, and the chances were fifty-fifty. Five liked those odds.)
“But the bad news is,” he picked one of the many, many little golden jars up off the table, “you were so high, the only thing you stole was a hell of a lot of honey. And no, I don’t know why, either. You never cared to enlighten me last night.”
@superhighgoodbye ; liked
















