Any other iron on you?” he asked impatiently.“Just my tongue stud.”His look was a mixture of curiosity and horror.“I’m kidding, you idiot. Let’s go.
I guess I can't blame him for feeling bitter. Going from being the terror of Bulgarian nights to a janitor would kinda suck
Being dead wasn't supposed to hurt. Where was the fairness in that? If I was dead, the least the universe could do was make it painless