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Handy

It was like I’d stuck my hand in a blender that wasn’t quite powerful enough. Bones broken, tendons torn, and skin sheared; all just barely holding together.

Not that I hadn’t tried. God damn, but I tried my hardest. There just wasn’t anything to be done. They’d find me in the morning, or at the least they’d find some parts of me. Whatever wasn’t devoured would most likely be ground up like a cheep side of beef.

At least the spindly fucker was going down with me. I don’t really know how it’s stomach works, but I’m pretty sure a grenade’ll give it more than just indigestion. Hope the damn thing still works after all the teeth I punched it through.

And the rest of the force thought I was an idiot, well I showed them. They’ll be damn happy that this janitor caries high explosives around. You just never know when they might come in handy.

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