Why wouldn't I be here— this is New York, where did you think I...
[This is going absolutely nowhere.
Peter hisses through his teeth and grips the sides of his head. Cripes, one week? One week without something absolutely nusto happening, that was all he ever wanted. And what does he get?
Steampunk Stan and his Magical Bag of No Freaking Answers.
The odd thing is that the guy seems to be expecting something out of him, and not in the insidious way. As if Peter had barged all up in his day and tossed him the sack of mystery bricks and not the other way around.
Then as if this wasn't infuriating enough, the guy starts speaking tongues. Peter draws back, visibly affronted.]
Was that even English just now?
[He doesn't have the time for this. Peter swings his hands way out to halt the progress of all nonsense henceforth.]
Okay. Okay. You need to explain to me, in normal English words, exactly how you know me and from where in the next thirty seconds, or I am going to haul your dumb tucchas to that big ole' super-prison over there, [He points to the giant tower that looms over the harbour like a church spire, imposing in all the least appetizing ways.] and you can explain it to a bunch of very angry dudes with big guns and handcuffs. Capisce?
hi boo, i missed you.......
[This is going absolutely nowhere.
Peter hisses through his teeth and grips the sides of his head. Cripes, one week? One week without something absolutely nusto happening, that was all he ever wanted. And what does he get?
Steampunk Stan and his Magical Bag of No Freaking Answers.
The odd thing is that the guy seems to be expecting something out of him, and not in the insidious way. As if Peter had barged all up in his day and tossed him the sack of mystery bricks and not the other way around.
Then as if this wasn't infuriating enough, the guy starts speaking tongues. Peter draws back, visibly affronted.]
Was that even English just now?
[He doesn't have the time for this. Peter swings his hands way out to halt the progress of all nonsense henceforth.]
Okay. Okay. You need to explain to me, in normal English words, exactly how you know me and from where in the next thirty seconds, or I am going to haul your dumb tucchas to that big ole' super-prison over there, [He points to the giant tower that looms over the harbour like a church spire, imposing in all the least appetizing ways.] and you can explain it to a bunch of very angry dudes with big guns and handcuffs. Capisce?