Quoted By:
The wildly wavering beam in Agent Inks hands catch off of something on the ground as Agent Sunday defends his life with the heavy duty briefing briefcase -- Inks rolls forward, twitching reflexes, and scoops it up and throws it under-hand; the small object sails barely past the flailing arms of Baba Shaya as the shadows shift and tear--
>How good are you at playing ball, Agent Sunday?
>Are you. . . Proficiency -2 Good?
