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The Flim-Flam Artist

Angelica heard crunching gravel, and looked up from where she and Madame were holding Lady Justice just in time to see a white man scrambling away from the Divine Sarah. Watson and X outran him easily and flanked him. He crouched, at bay, a smear of dried blood under his nose and across his mouth.

"Behave, Aloysius MacCready," Watson said in a low voice. "Someone worth a thousand of you just died."

A strange expression crossed X's face—Angelica might have called it rage—and sie suddenly spun into a beautiful, flawless roundhouse kick that caught him in the back of the head and planted him face-first into the Canis family's rocky driveway.

Watson raised an eyebrow at X, then knelt and clicked handcuffs around the man's wrists behind his back.

X stared down at him for a long moment, and said, distantly, "Not everyone gets to kick the guy who raped their best friend in the head." Then sie helped Watson throw him back into the back of the van.







Thought I'd forgotten Pastor Al, didn't you? Michelle Yeoh is here to help you envision this little moment.

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