This is not especially conducive to doing business, either.

For a moment they just stare. Girl can't be more than 90 pounds wet, but there's Rocco down, and Medium Dave, and that was an impressive kick; there's Lanlan sailing through -- wo tiantian de qiaokeli yesu a! -- the air straight toward them.

Mingo jerks the bag up into his lap, cradling it protectively, and stares.



Fanty clears his throat.

"Do you know that girl?"