When JD got back from lunch he found Fifi playing alone against computer players. Then he found Ean in the kitchen.
Ean was standing in front of the fridge with the door open, staring into the slowly spinning blue vortex.
“What do you think is out there?” Ean finally asked.
“Trouble,” JD opined. “Should be fun.”
I kept my mouth shut: Ean didn’t need to know it had once been a path straight to Hell but now – due to the ravages of time – splinters had broken off of it, opening portals into various fey realms.
Ean transferred his gaze from the vortex to me. “Right,” he said, and slammed the fridge shut.
Then he turned to JD. “Are you sure letting Fifi out of there was a good idea?”
JD shrugged. “He’s your dog, dude. You tell me. Anyway, what was I supposed to do? You ran away, he was gonna pulp himself against the door trying to get it open, and I didn’t have weapons. Speaking of which: a crowbar and a board with a nail through it are not weapons. Why didn’t you go for the explosive-spike launching railgun or something?”
Ean blinked. Then he said: “First off, I was not running away. I was getting a bystander out of the area. And second…” His shoulders slumped. “I don’t even want to know, but: why do you think I have access to an explosive-spike launching railgun?”