TEDDYBEAR 🤓

Me: *buys new books*

Friend: Hey, I found this new story you would like!

HOW TO BEAT THE TBR PILE: 

“Phury lit a blunt and eyed the sixteen cans of Aqua Net that were lined up on Butch and V’s coffee table. “What’s doing with the hair spray? You boys going drag on us?” Butch held up the length of PVC pipe he was punching a hole in. “Potato launcher, my man. Big fun.” “Excuse me?” “Didn’t you ever go to summer camp?” “Basket weaving and woodcarving are for humans. No offense, but we have better things to teach our youngs.” “Ha! You haven’t lived until you’ve gone on a midnight panty raid. Anyway, you put the potato in this end, you fill up the bottom with spray—” “And then you light it,” V cut in from his bedroom. He came out in a robe, rubbing a towel on his wet hair. “Makes a great noise.” “Great noise,” Butch echoed. Phury looked at his brother. “V, you’ve done this before?” “Yeah, last night. But the launcher jammed up.” Butch cursed. “Potato was too big. Damn Idaho bakers. We’re leading with red skins tonight. It’s going to be great. Of course, trajectory can be a bitch—” “But it’s really just like golf,” V said, dropping the towel across a chair. He pulled a glove over his right hand, covering the sacred tattoos that marked the thing from palm to fingertip and all across the back. “I mean, you gotta think of your arc in the air—” Butch nodded up a storm. “Yeah, it’s just like golf. Wind plays a big role—” “Huge.” Phury smoked along as they finished each other’s sentences for another couple minutes. After a while he felt compelled to mention, “The two of you are spending way too much time together, you feel me?””

“Rhage raised his hand. “Pastor Ass-hat, I have a question.” “Yes, my son, you ARE going to hell.” Lassiter made the sign of the cross and then looked around.”

“V sat back on his heels, crossed his arms, and continued to look down at the little bag of vampire. And what do you know. That infant sonofabitch glared right back at him. Vishous started to smile. He couldn’t help it. You had to admire that kind of strength- and it obviously came from breeding. How else could you explain why something that was barely a month old was ready to take on a grown-ass male who was heavily armed and really fucking cranky. ‘My man,’ V said as he put his good hand out. ‘Gimme five.’ Rhamp didn’t know from high-fiving anything, but he did grab onto what was right in front of his face, and oh, how he squeezed. V laughed deep in his throat. ‘Yeah, you can fight with me in the field when you’re grown. And soon as you’re big enough to hold a dagger… I’ll make one for you. Forge it myself. You’re gonna be just like your dad, one helluva a fighter. Just like him…’”

BDB: cinnamon rolls