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    Summary

    “Whose abuse do you enjoy more, Jabber? Do not make me ask again.”
    “Why do I gotta pick, Boss?” Jabber asks, his voice a bit wheezy from the strain on his neck. “You both give it to me good as hell.”
    Zodyl exhales and drops to a knee, bringing Jabber’s face down with him and smashing it into the dirt and broken cement. Pain blossoms through his face, and if his nose wasn’t broken earlier, it definitely is now. Even through the ringing in his ears, he can hear Zanka’s raspy exhale, and it lights the rest of him up.

    Jabber considers joining the Cleaners, and Zodyl tries to reason with a monster.

    Language:
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