"3, 7, 9, 18, 33, and 42. Those'll have to do for you. And my stock's up, too," Beatrice calmly tells the scrawny one as she carefully sets aside the paper in a way the shorter one can see her hands -- open to neither the lottery nor the financials pages, but newspapers are a purely aesthetic thing to her anyway.
She's ready to go for her ASP as soon as she sense's they're going for their weapons.
"To be frank? You girls triggered my mutation. I realize if I had a Python and a K-Bar, I'd want every chance to use them, too, but staring's not much of grounds to do it in public, isn't it?"
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