"So, Walking Dead, what'll it be? How about that dog of yours? Fenrir'd get along well with the hell mutt, don't you think?"
"CERBERUS IS MINE."
"Sweet baby Balder, this guy just doesn't have a sense of humor, does he?" Loki asked.
I shrugged apathetically. "Gallows humor. That's about it."
"I'm right here, maggot," Samael spat, fuming. Smoke rose from his nostrils with each angry exhalation.
"I know," I said venomously. "It's kind of hard to not notice someone with such atrocious behavior as yours."
"I'll lop your tongue off with my scythe, worm."
"I'll castrate you, you psycho-pompous asshole."
"Bite your words, you wretch!"
"Shove that scythe up your ass, Corpse-breath!"
"Children, children!" Loki commanded, holding up his hands in peace. "I think we need to reel in our tempers, eh? Burn coolly - fire's a wonderful thing, but it make a wrecka things when it's uncontrolled."
