"Jowd, baby, ever thought about what it's like to die?" he asks one day as they're cruising in a patrol car down the city streets, looking straight at Jowd from the passenger seat with a sly smile plastered across his face.
Jowd forces his hands to remain calm on the wheel and tries not to think about the searing heat of the exploding chair, nor the staccato of machine gun fire, nor even the swirling, ghastly red-black realm of ghosts and Manipulators; instead, he glances at Cabanela and laughs and says, "No, and I never want to."
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"Jowd, baby, ever thought about what it's like to die?" he asks one day as they're cruising in a patrol car down the city streets, looking straight at Jowd from the passenger seat with a sly smile plastered across his face.
Jowd forces his hands to remain calm on the wheel and tries not to think about the searing heat of the exploding chair, nor the staccato of machine gun fire, nor even the swirling, ghastly red-black realm of ghosts and Manipulators; instead, he glances at Cabanela and laughs and says, "No, and I never want to."