“Ah shit,” Matt said as the death scream issued forth from the TV. “How do you beat that fucker?”
“Shit if I know,” Doug said, getting up. “I’m gonna get a pop. You want something?”
“Uh, sure,” Matt said, interlacing his fingers and stretching out, “a coke would be great.”
His knuckles cracked and he let out a sigh before sinking back into the couch. His brow was furrowed as he slouched, waiting for Doug to return. He reflected on how they were going to get past the Guardian.
The damn thing just wouldn’t die! Nothing seemed to hurt it.