Oh, I get it," I said. "You're Evil Harry, lurking inside Good Harry. Right? And you only come out at night?
Pretty please. With sugar.
We're all so damned fragile.
It rained toads the day the White Council came to town.
Nay, but prithee, with sprinkles 'pon it instead," I said solemnly, "and frosting of white.
My head was throbbing, and my hands were shaking, but I went down the ladder to my workroom - and started figuring out how to rip someone's heart out of his chest from fifty miles away. Who says I never do anything fun on a Friday night?