We Sons Of Daley [Manhattan Blues]

Fuckyou-Anne D'get Zisbomoff-Measshole.

"Let's swap names AFTER we're not all gonna die!"

"Yeah, fine, hold on-"

Cast weight elimination on the nitroglycerin.

Weight elimination doesn't quite work that way, it's not OBJECT MOTION or PSYCHOKINESIS. You simply can't use it on ANYTHING THAT ISN'T REALLY YOU IN PARTICULAR.

In fact, the only thing weight elimination is good for, really, is ASTOUNDINGLY DIFFICULT TERRAIN, like WALKING ON WATER or STANDING ON A CEI-

... You're a bonehead. "Hey, if I give you some slack, can you get out of there?"

"How do you plan on doing that? There's no way to get at it!"

You smirk, as you DROP your TYPEWRITER, BACKPACK, and M4, and put the SAFETIES on the 1911s before SECURING THEM TO HOLSTER. You look around, and find a GOOD SPOT TO ASCEND. Using WEIGHT ELIMINATION, you RUN UP THE WALL and STICK ON THE CEILING, reach down, and PULL UP ON THE JUG, which gives MISS CONSCIOUS some slack. She ESCAPES WITH REMARKABLE EASE.

"Could you see to the others? I got MAYBE TWO MINUTES before I drop."

"The jug?" She's working on the others now, and she seems to work FAST.

"From the CEILING."

"Right, right..." That's two...

"I know this can't exactly be rushed, but we are on a time limit here-"

"Okay, that's everyone."

This took about thirty seconds, which is good, because you're ALMOST DRY on STURDY KI (one of two kinds you don't use to activate CROSS COUNTER, which requires FOUR). You catch the jug closely to you and come down from the ceiling, GENTLY.

Your hands are now FULL OF BOMB.

Oh, and it looks like your NEW FRIEND is muttering something and WIGGLING HER FINGERS.

> _