3:45 A.M. Central
Agent Max appears to be cleaning his coat ... most likely removing blood evidence of some horrific crime.
Agent Gabby refuses to remove herself from the top of my head, even as I type this. Judging from the slow healing of my nearly severed left index finger, I doubt that I am quite ready for another attempt to remove her. I can only pray for one of three things....
1. Catastrophic earthquake pitching her off my head before she can extend her claws into my brain matter.
2. My wife waking up and coming in to distract her long enough for me to stop, drop, and roll my way to safety.
3. Mercy.
I live in tectonic-deficient North Texas..... my wife is snoring quite loudly ..... and Gabby ... well...
I'm screwed.