“What’s wrong? Did your sense of humour dump you too?” I was too preoccupied with my skinned knees and bleeding palms to answer Jason. Portia, his ex for whom he’d left me, continued her annoying hyena laugh.
I slowly rose from the pavement to face him. “Not at all,” I said evenly, alarm bells going off in my mind: don’t do it!
My left arm burst from my sleeve in its true tentacle form, impaling Jason where the sun didn’t shine, wetly ripping and tearing, exiting from his mouth.
“I still think hand puppets are funny,” I replied. “Don’t you?”
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