He was aware how happy he was, watching this greasy human donkey angle-grinding through the D-Lock. On any other day, he'd already be halfway out the door with a bat or a knife. But here he was, sipping his Dubonnet, scratching beneath his plaster cast and smiling to himself as the hapless donkey cut his way through the last eighth inch of steel. 2007-05-27T14:20:33Z http://ficlets.com/feed/story/3355 <p>nice and short.</p> http://ficlets.com/stories/3355?basename=2281 2007-05-27T14:20:33Z khepa http://ficlets.com/authors/khepa