The Demand for Forethought

“They said it’ll take them an hour,” the old scout said, disgusted. He flicked the glossy paper to the table and dropped the phone into his pocket.

“Aw, Hendrick. Be fair.” Gregori chuckled. “You demanded enough food to feed a platoon of me.”

The scout snorted and tossed back his shot. “You order from them on a regular basis?” he asked, tapping the creases and grease stains on the flyer with the empty glass.

“Well, yeah.”

“Then they should have known to have reserves on hand,” Hendrick said flatly.

The titan gave in to the urge to roll his eyes.


Previous – Ordering In

Next – Feeding the Beasts


About azhwi

An editing student, graduated Feb 2012. An avid fan of video games, fanfiction, anime, writing, and the serial comma.
This entry was posted in Man-Made Wings, Post-Trauma and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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