“Talk about dramatic. Diner
waitress Sara Deshenski has met an untimely and violent demise at the hands of
an irate alien, so says her diner manager, Herb Nelson.” You shook your
head and folded up the newspaper again, looking forward to this interrogation.
“Not just any alien. An irate alien. This
is gonna be an interesting conversation.”
Cas led the way toward the waitress at the cash register.
Both of you withdrew your FBI badges from your coats. “Hello, we’d like to
speak to your manager, if we could.”
I’ve tried making you comfortable. I let you have your friends, your woman, but the fact is it’s too much work. And honestly, all I really need is your body. And your mind? Well, I could give a shit about your mind.