Work Text:
"Is Butch sure about… this?"
"Plenty sure. Stay still, would you? And don't cough, you'll throw off my aim."
Frank's body shook a bit with effort as he held back a cough. The bruised apple on his head wobbled precariously, but didn't fall. "O-of course!"
Butch palmed the rock in his hand. It was nice and hefty. Very aerodynamic. Pebbles was good at digging up these kinds of rocks. "Good." He took a few steps back, checked his aim, and then threw.
A pained scream echoed through the air as flesh and stone got to know each other very well.
