I don’t believe that prison is a useful tool for bettering society, but I can think of at least one crime that merits it: if you know me and you own a dog and you don’t periodically send me pictures of your dog.

Well gee, PDR from four hours ago, you’re right. Those two things sure do start with the same word.

Adam: The Beekeeper Chronicles, Chapter Thirty-Eight

Gladys heard footsteps approaching quickly. She turned around.

A man wearing some sort of medieval helmet. “What the hell?” she thought. Was she being mugged?

“Excuse me, ma’am, could I–”

She shoved him to the ground. She ran.

The man was back on his feet surprisingly quickly. And coming after her. He wasn’t normal.

She couldn’t lead him to the others at the shop. And Dante wasn’t wearing his mask, so she couldn’t warn them.

To lose him, she’d need a bigger lead.

On an empty side street, Gladys stopped, turned to face the helmeted man, and clenched her fists.