The Revenge of Sprinklefiction ...

... or because I just felt like posting something from weepee-Prime:

… I watch the Ghost Pathist approach, her oh-so-spectacular leap-kick trapped in the amber of my subjective fasttime. I debate whether to continue holding to their upper-most performance threshold.

Or whether to just stop f*@#ing around and kill them all …

and:

...Aloud, while bouncing punches off her knuckles, I remark conversationally, “You should know: breaking a mirror is seven years bad luck.” Her eyes flicker; she’s caught my meaning. But what luck has the mirror? She’ll be slipping in a would-be surprise any time now. Some desperation tactic, perhaps a Pyrrhic attack; her breed tends to go that route at the drop of a hat. It can be irritating.

“What kind of person takes pride in being disposable?”

Her eyes. Shock. Anger. Fear. Will. Pride forced to prominence. Kamikaze mode _off_, biatch. Fight me. Fight for your life. Fight for _your_ life. I retreat. She follows. Battle is a juggling act and that goes double for fanatics. Triple for fanatics you’re trying not to kill or let die …

Backdated from 6:25 PM