“Ask him if he poops in buckets,” I muttered, even though Gary couldn’t hear me.
“Am I being transferred?” Wan asked.
“Am I being transferred,” Gary said, pacing in front of the table. “That’s what you’re asking me.”
“Yes?”
“Was that a question? Because it sounded like a question.”
“I don’t know?”
“You. Don’t. Know.” Gary stopped pacing. “What do you know?”
“What?” Wan asked, sounding confused. “Listen, I don’t—”
“No,” Gary snarled suddenly, stomping his hoof on the floor. “You listen.”
“Eep,” Wan squeaked.
“I’m a loose cannon,” Gary said, baring his teeth. “Everyone down at the precinct says so. Loose Cannon Goth Princess Gary they call me.”
“Oh no,” I moaned. “He’s role-playing again. Whose idea was this?”
“Yours,” Randall said. Like an asshole.
“Loose Cannon Goth—” Wan started.
“Did I say you could call me that?” Gary roared, spittle flying from his lips. “My husband just left me because he couldn’t handle being the spouse of a cop. Do you think I have any fucks left to give?”
“No!” Wan said shrilly. “No fucks!”
“You’re godsdamned right I don’t,” Gary said. “And if you think I’m bad, you just wait until my partner gets ahold of you.”
Tiggy let out a low rumble.
“You remember him, don’t you?” Gary whispered as he leaned
forward, his face inches from Wan’s. “He’s the one that made sure Lartin was spread evenly along the cave wall.”
Wan’s eyes were wide.
“Spread him like butter,” Tiggy agreed. “Bloody, bloody butter.”
“So badass,” I whispered fervently to Ryan. “I know them.”
“I know you do,” Ryan said, patting me on the shoulder.
“Do you want to be Tiggy’s bloody butter?” Gary asked.
“No!” Wan said, looking like he was starting to cower.
“Then you’ll tell me what I want to know?”
“Yes!”
“Good,” Gary said. “I only have one question for you. And you’re gonna be my good boy and answer it, aren’t you.”
“Such a good boy!”