Ficlets

Act Two : Sarcasm Doesn't Always Work

We went tumbling to the ground, and I gave a grunt as the breath was knocked out of my sternum.

I realized that I was lying ontop of the thief, so I got into a sitting position pinning whoever it was down with strength I didn’t know I had.

“What are you doing in our pastures?” I growled, my club raised menacingly.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” a voice came, muffled from the ground.

I still didn’t know if it was a guy or a girl – too hard to tell with the distortion of the person’s voice.

“How’s it like being acquainted with the ground, burglar?” I snarled, feeling anger rise in my chest.

“Not nice – now, get up before I decide to do something about your bulk.”

Oh, this is definitely a guy.

“Care to repeat that little comment?” I challenged, pressing the club into his neck.

“Yeah – you’re as heavy as the Underground Regions. Now get off!”

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with,” I said, and some of my old memories coming back.

“Ooh, I’m shaking in my boots.”

“You should be!”

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