Bouchard chuckles deep in his throat. "Oh, young one, it has been so long since I've seen a neonate this hungry to meet final death. But say I humored you—where are you going with this?"
"You'd have me take you as an ally?" Bouchard grins daggers as he stalks around the desk to look you over.
You nod, unflappable.
"You, with all the subtlety of an atom bomb. The age and experience of a child! The cunning of a worm. You believe I would have you as an ally?"
"I do."
He laughs then, a full-throated belly-laugh. Rolls of fat under his chin wiggle grotesquely as he wipes tears away from his eyes. "This," he says, catching his wind. "This is delightful." He composes himself and sits back in his seat. "It's unbelievable that I would ever accept such an alliance."
"That's why it will work," you say.
He arches forward over the desk, beady eyes staring into your soul. "My thoughts exactly."
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