Page 22 of Filthy Feck


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Star:Ah, you mean how did I end up being a sex slave?

Conor:Yes. Precisely.

Star:Director of the CIA is a Sparrow. I started sniffing around where he didn’t want me sniffing, and I got my ass landed in Sex Slave Central. Trust me, it’s not the kind of marketplace you want to visit.

Star:Unless you’re into that, of course.

Star:Are you?

Conor:Double sigh.

Star:Why are you asking?

Conor:You have a lot of long-term plans.

Star:I do! It’s my favorite thing to do.

Conor:Do you bullet journal?

Star:Do I seem like the kind of woman who’d bullet journal?

Conor:Hey, I don’t judge. Maybe you have a kill list and it’s decorated with hearts…

Star:I’m not a ‘hearts and flowers’ kinda gal.

Conor:Skulls and crossbones then?

Star:Lol. You got me.

Conor:What? Do you bullet journal?

Star:Uh huh. I use bullets to decorate my journal.

Conor:You’re no fun.

Star:I’m plenty of fun.

Conor:So, do you have a kill list?

Star:Naturally.

Conor:Is the Director of the CIA on there?

Star:Yes. That’s a very obvious question.

Conor:Nothing’s obvious with you. Why isn’t he dead yet?

Star:Because Reinier isn’t a priority.

Star:The New World Sparrows need to die. Then, I need to kill my mom’s murderer. THEN, I have to reunite every woman, man, and child who was treated like a piece of meat by those fucking bastards with their family. THEN, the Director of the CIA can die.

Star:Ordinarily, Reinier would be at the top of my shit list but, as you can see, I have quite a lot on my plate.

Conor:How do you want to kill him?

Star:Stick a poker up his ass.

Conor:Very angelic of you.

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