[Not even missing a beat, the long-arm of the law coolly reached into his trench coat and flung out a pair of handcuffs, hurling them with the oft-mentioned, but rarely scene superhuman accuracy. He'd known this was coming. Since the minute that bastard had walked in the door...]
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...Thanks, Pops. Seriously. Thanks.
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...But there is one more thing.
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And what's that?
1/2
he pokes Pops on the arm.]
TAG!!!!
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Messed up as he was, he didn't really feel like fighting.
He grins, only a little sheepish at being caught--then again, he hadn't been too subtle, and this was only an after thought.
Mostly.]
Ha ha~ You caught me, Pops.
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Tag. No backsies.