> There were a lot of things you hadn't expected to happen today. In fact, only the brutal massacre of jolly green assholes had gone according to your plans and even that had gotten a little out of hand. Oh. That's right. You lost an arm today, didn't you? That really sucked
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You mean seriously, come on.
Either way you're now holding this grey-haired kid at knife point and tell him that you'll be showing him your stabs if you don't get some fucking answers.
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Put that the fuck down.
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You ask him if he's LORD ENGLISH and if he is you tell him that you're here to kill him. You also ask him where his fancy rainbow time-coat is because you don't want to take him out if he's not wearing it because that just makes it so much less cool.
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You don't lower your knife, but you try to look less likely to stab him. You even go so far as to tell him that if he answers your questions that you might not stab him in the eyes and feed him to some crazy animals that tried to run you over outside.
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[He eyes Slick. Because he is bleeding way more than can possibly be healthy.]
...How the fuck are you even standing up?
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You tell him to tell you where that potentially green bastard is or you'll gut him and force feed him his intestines with your BAIT AND SWITCHBLADE.
You also tell him that it's just a carapace wound and it's nothing to worry about. It's just a little blood.
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I still don't know what the hell you're talking about or who Lord English is.
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Well, he looks sincere enough and you sure as hell know what a liar looks like. You kind of have to since you run the best DASTARDLY CREW in town. You tell him you were just attacking those green bastards manor and you found this place after a fuck-ton of time shenanigans that you don't feel like going into too much detail on at the moment.
You are losing just a LITTLE BIT of BLOOD after all. You're sure he'll understand or that CROWBAR you stole from Crowbar will make him understand. You ask him where you are instead.
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Not yet. Then again, you know for a fact that there are lying little assholes in the world that look like... like... Okay, you're not sure where that thought was going, but oh well. You also realize something after a moment. Something obviously very important.
You decide to ask him what species he is because you're sick of seeing things that look kinda like him and not knowing what to call 'em.
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[Because yes, that question has been BURNING HIS BRAIN UP since before he noticed the knife pointed at him.
...Then he'd noticed the knife and everything else had become slightly less urgent.]
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You tell him that you'd seen pictures of his species before. Or at least something in the same genus of it. That, and you have a weird computer thing with one of his kind on it. You think, anyway.
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