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Rolled 1, 1, 4 = 6 (3d4)
You throw off the remains of the kludge armor - it's just getting in the way now - and go back for the clever snot you left buried under a pile of Stuffs.
After stowing the lot, you check the brat: still breathing, still asleep. Just to be safe, you Blood Dot him again.
He dry retches. So, already awake n tricksy ehh. Looks like someone needs a liddle persyykolojjikal adjustment.
"<span class="mu-g">Jezt like I promizzt:</span>" You yank his head, angling it out of the door, so's he can see the dedd mutt.
"<span class="mu-g">I zed if yez quiet, I don't killz <span class="mu-s">yez</span>.</span>"
You look into his eyes, patting his head, smoothing his hair. Grinning like a shark.
"<span class="mu-g">Meanen also I don't <span class="mu-s">killz</span> yez; n <span class="mu-s">I</span> don't killz yez; n I [d]don't[/d] killz yez.</span>"
He doesn't take long to work this out; you Blood Dot him just when his eyes widen, and you truss him proppa.
Ooh he'll be beggen for va Dogg's death before Seafood's done wivvin!
