Othneil chuckled at the familiar voice behind him. “Lazy Sue, you ink-stained whore, don’t need your help.”

“I only whore for blood and lead Old Man. I don’t have a beef with you any such way. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the only one here that’s more man than me. Now move.”

Othneil let his iron drop back in and raised his hands and bowed out, tipping his tinted cowboy visor at the five bewildered, yet perplexed boys.

“One or all five of you stole two of my Utahraptors. So what’s it gonna be sons, whose comin out with me to untie those combination knots, pretty clever over and under codes you got going there. Surprised you can get your flys untied fast enough to piss standing up. That is, unless you all squat to pee.”

They had all turned around by this time. What they faced was 4’ of tattoos. They say Sue once walked into Indian Ink Inc., sat down and was too lazy to move, so the bots just inked every inch of her. Truth was, she had just killed twenteen Grave Robbers and simply needed a nap.

“Well?”