We didn’t have to “Force” this Jedi into taking a picture with the TARDIS!
Today we’re talking about the 2019 film Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker.
This is marked as the end of the Skywalker Saga (AKA numbered Star Wars movies) and was meant to tie up the loose ends and stories of the old, new, and middle characters in the series.
Although the story was pretty coherent, it was meandering and often got marred down by awkward nostalgia. Treating things like the fallen death star or Luke’s old X-wing as near magical artifacts of nostalgia.
As much as this felt like a love letter to the old Star Wars, it also felt like a massive set up for the future of that universe. Introducing so many new elements into the last movie that some from previous movies faded into the background. (Poor Rose.)
Overall, it was hopeful, anyone can be redeemed, the force is with us, you aren’t your parents, etc etc. (What’s with American entertainment and the obsession with hereditary power and competence.)
It was fun, but overly self-indulgent in it’s own mythos. Also “Wonder-Force-Twins” ex-machina.
I’ll have to watch the whole trilogy again but I felt that the characters changed a lot between movies. Poe’s character seemed to have the least consistency between movies, but even Rey felt different.
The only completely consistent character was Kylo.
It was nice to see the old crew, but overall it was frustrating to see the inconsistencies.
I did love Leia though.
The dialogue was exactly what you’d expect from a post-Lucas Star Wars. Hammy but not to the point of cringe. Lots of throwbacks and the actors genuinely delivered emotion.
Nothing stood out as infinitely quotable and a lot of it was whiny.
Visuals and Music
This was Star Wars. Visuals and Music are essential the best parts. When the Star Wars theme starts playing during the opening exposition crawl, I get shivers.
This is genuinely beautiful. From lightsaber fights on a storm-wracked wreck, to jungle planets, and the Sith homeworld. It was wonderful to watch.
There was a part of the movie near the end where Rey has gone off on her own and the others are feeling helpless that I just got bored. From that part onward, it felt like the ending was both rushed story-wise and slow pacing-wise.
This was a Star Wars movie. It had all the Star Wars stuff, both good and bad. I can see why some people loved it. I can also see where some people hated it.
Final Score: 2.5 Stars
Dear Imaginary Friends,
I have an unhealthy obsession. I’m a little ashamed of myself actually. I just can’t seem to stop… reading the comments online.
I know I really shouldn’t but there’s a weird fascination to seeing the worst of humanity interacting. I’m fascinated, repulsed, and I feel a little gross after.
My particular weaknesses are looking at comments on stories relating to Doctor Who, Captain Marvel, CW’s superhero shows, and Canadian politics.
The comments are a squirming cesspool of humanity’s worst qualities and worst arguments. One that I’ve heard a lot lately is that there’s too much politics in entertainment. Make me think of the old Peanut Butter cup commercials, “You got peanut butter on my chocolate.”
Unlike chocolate and peanut butter (yummy), the idea that you can have any form of entertainment devoid of politics is laughable. Even when you think something isn’t political, it is.
The reason most people don’t notice is that the politics align with theirs. If you’re a straight, white, cis, middle to upper class person, you won’t notice any politics in something like Friends, Big Bang, or How I Met Your Mother. You might glance over the commentary on sexism or classism in those shows as just normal everyday stuff. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.
I can hear the “Well actually, it’s more blatant” and that’s bullshit. If you’re one of those people who thinks old shows didn’t make political comments, you weren’t listening. Star Wars, Diehard, North by North-West, all had political messages in them. It’s nearly impossible to separate politics from art because it’s impossible to separate belief from creation.
Those complaining that things have become too political aren’t complaining about politics. They’re complaining that they aren’t seeing their politics reflected back at them.
Hello My Imaginary Friends,
What is bad writing? I bet you can think of multiple examples right off the bat right?
What if I told you this wasn’t terrible writing but realistic awkward, cult raised, teen flirting? Would you disagree?
So what’s the line? Where’s the litmus test? Why am I using so many question marks? Seriously, this is getting irritating, like sand?
Okay, silliness aside, most people have no idea what bad writing is and love to use it as an argument.
“I don’t hate women, but Doctor Who’s writing just sucks this season.”
“I’m not racist, but Star Wars The Force Awakens is badly written.”
What these people mean is that the show isn’t the way they remember and that makes them unhappy.
It’s not actually about the writing.
There are four main types of bad writing and that’s how I judge a book or show’s writing:
Typos, sentence structure, and grammar are important. If they’re off for no reason, that’s bad writing.
Eg: Th woman starred up at his face, wondering what that beard hide.
I struggle with this in my writing. Repeating things can be useful, but makes it feel like you’re over explaining or condescending to the audience
Eg: She looked into his eyes, wondering what secrets hid behind those eyes. The eyes were dark blue and seemed to see right through her. She’d describe the eyes as piercing.
3. Boobing / Privilege
When you write about something you’re not familiar with but don’t realize, you end up, at best, sounding like a male author poorly writing a woman, or at worst, tone deaf and racist.
Eg: She boobily boobed down the stairs with her boobs boobing. BOOBS
Eg: Her exotic light-chocolate skin marked her as one of the less educated mexican delegation. She’d probably never been to such an advanced city. He was certain she’d appreciate the taco truck outside the conference centre.
4. Inconsistent Story
Contradictions, temporal weirdness, odd twists, or ridiculous luck can all throw an audience out of a work. In tiny doses, it’s not too bad, but too much or too blatant and it’s just bad writing. (Shakespeare was terrible with time.)
People will talk to you about pacing, clichés, contrivances, too much or too little dialogue, starting too early or too late, etc. etc. etc.
It’s all bullshit. What they’re actually saying is they don’t like something about the work and instead of facing that, they’d rather just make a vague useless statement.
Unfortunately, it’s also really hard to argue with such a statement.
Did I miss anything? Do you disagree?
Chapter 13: Fighters and lovers
The natural reaction to an eight armed, monolithic demon should be terror. Artemis felt nothing but excitement.
“I’ve got this!” she exclaimed and ran out of the airship hanger.
Smaller than the demon’s smallest toe, she stood no chance in defeating it. She didn’t believe that; she knew she could do it. Standing on the end of the airstrip looking at the demon’s knees and down she stopped and concentrated on her breathing. Reaching the same, preternatural state of self-knowledge as she had fighting the lord commander of the Demon Hordes of Aldroy.
Every part of her being vibrated with excitement. She stood up, unsheathed her swords and jumped towards the demon.
It’s feet were just starting to touch the soil when she hit it in the chest with her shoulder. They both tumbled into the sea and stood up at the same time. She looked the demon in the eye and smiled. She was now the same size.
Eight blades fought against her two and she made sure to step backwards to avoid fighting too close to the island. The demon wasn’t just a great swordsman, they were also used to fighting with eight arms. She did her best and managed to lop off one arm but the demon cut her side with one of its serrated blades. The sea turned red and green from their blood, like some sort of holiday dessert gone terribly wrong.
Death had never scared her but she wished she’d had more time with Diana and Ezekiel. She wanted to explore what they had together. Unfortunately, she was getting weak from blood loss and as she was being beaten with blows from the seven remaining swords, she worried it was her last few moments.
A cannonball hit the demon in the forehead and exploded into a shower of caustic smelling liquid. The demon screamed and swatted at the airship. She took the opening and its head fell into the ocean, a silent scream still on its lips.
“She needs help,” Diana said.
“I don’t think there’s anything we can do,” Fred sighed.
“What is he doing? Wait… She?” Ezekiel asked.
Diana closed her eyes and felt terrible. It wasn’t her place to out anyone. She’d come to the conclusion at the monastery but it really didn’t make a difference, Arty or whatever her name was, was a true hero. And damn attractive. “Yes, please don’t freak out.”
Eyes wide and mouth dropping open, Ezekiel looked terrified and amazed at the same time. It was a stronger reaction than she’d expected. Turning to look at Arty, she saw that the reaction was for the woman growing to match the gargantuan demon and not for the reveal of her sex.
“Did you know she could do that?” asked Diana to both men.
“No but I’m not surprised, she’s quite impressive and extremely well trained in mystical combat and martial arts.” Fred sounded impatient.
“No, but I look forward to discovering what else she can do.” Ezekiel sounded smitten.
“Your highness, the ships are ready and loaded. How are we to disperse the venom?” One of the captains asked.
“Have the Serenity ready to make it rain as if we were misting crops. Have the venom in the Raza brought to the gun decks.” Turning to Fred she said, “I’m on the Raza, make sure the city is properly rained.”
The Raza’s gun decks were impressive even by military standards. She took a moment to admire the nearly two hundred guns. The deck was crowded by barrels of Gabon venom.
It took some improvising, but she was able to combine the venom and cannonballs into a perfect demon killing weapon. After she’d combined the first ammunition box she turned to see Ezekiel playing an upbeat melody and she knew he was helping to bolster her magic.
“Sister, Sister, Sister. Why do you still struggle.” Paul, the lost prince, stood behind her with his sword at the ready. “Let’s finish this!” He swung his sword at lightning speeds, showing off its deadly serrated edge.
He surely meant to intimidate her and it wasn’t working. “Go back to hell, Paul!” She pulled out her pistol and shot him. Her paralysis dart hit him in the chest and he fell to the ground.
Turning to the inter-deck communicating tube, she bellowed, “Let’s get into the air and help our champion.” She turned back to her brother and saw him open a portal and start dragging himself into it. “Paul, don’t! You can’t sustain the portal! You’ll…”
The portal closed on him as he was crawling halfway in. His head to his waist made it through but his hips and below slopped onto the deck.
Once the colossal demon was defeated, the lost prince lost again, and the city was sprayed with Gabon venom, things quickly got better for the island of Cillian.
In some ways, things were forever changed. Artemis had earned the title of Master and the Monks of Dumas vowed to accept anyone into their ranks.
In other ways, nothing had changed. Ezekiel sat behind his desk dreaming of music and writing bits of songs on a piece of paper that might once have been an invoice.
“Well don’t you look content,” the Oracle said walking in.
“How can I help you?” He was being as diplomatic as possible.
“Can you deliver a message to your lover?”
Blushing, Ezekiel said, “I can certainly bring a message to Master Artemis, Princess’s Champion.” After everything had settled down, Artemis wanted to get to know both the Princess and Ezekiel better. It had turned into open relationships that left all three of them happy and fulfilled.
“You don’t like me?” The Oracle said bluntly with a smirk. He shook his head and she broke into a full smile. “Why?”
“You made a fool of yourself and us before my concert.” It sounded silly when he said it aloud.
“Yes but I made sure you were all in the right place.”
“What? Everything you said was wrong.”
Laughing she replied, “Oh sweet child. What I did ensured Artemis went to you after the concert. That made sure the Princess went to the monastery the next day. And it made sure you were too lovesick and tired to leave your bed.”
“But we didn’t listen to you.”
“No one listens to me but gossips and historians.”
Could she have really pushed them towards what happened? Ezekiel wasn’t convinced but the idea scared him. “What’s the message?”
“Tell your lover and her lover to help the white furred dog-girl* when she falls from the sky. She sees more than I would ever want.”
Ezekiel sighed. Another vague prophesy could mean nothing but trouble. At least for the moment everything had ended happily.
Did you enjoy this years serial story? Why not check out one of the previous years?
Authors Note: Apparently I had more story to tell and it didn’t all fit in this chapter. That means there will be an extra “New Year’s Day Special” also known at Chapter 13.
Chapter 12: Have bard will travel
Ezekiel stood outside the Princess’s room in borrowed pants. He’d always dreamt of going to her bedroom and now she just dismissed him.
Why wouldn’t she? They were in the middle of an emergency situation. She wasn’t some shrinking violet who needed saving. She didn’t need someone to take care of her.
What did she need? He sighed to himself and headed back to the courtyard. His parents had probably mobilized the Apollo guards to help protect people, but they’d been at home. He could mobilize the guards at the shipping yards and maybe get an airship into the fight.
Hurrying down the stairs, he rushed from the castle. As he was leaving, the gates started to close. “Why are you closing the gates? What if there are more injured?” he asked a guard.
“Princess’s orders. The castle will be sealed to defend their royal highnesses.”
“What? That’s not like her.”
“I agree, but I also have orders.”
This was odd; what was she thinking, he wondered. He sighed again and headed towards the shipyards. The streets were filled with demons and he had no weapons; he did his best to avoid them but the shipyards were on the other side of the city.
He managed to get most of the way when all of the demons collapsed and started screeching. It was more war cry mixed with anger than pain, so he doubled his pace.
A large portal opened and someone came out of it. It looked like Didi. He ran towards the opening, only to run into a circle of very angry demons. In the middle of the circle seemed to be Didi, Arty, and the royal physician. Picking up a discarded sword he prepared to go in and save his friend. He knew Arty could take care of himself, but the physician and Didi were sitting ducks.
The sword was larger than the epee he’d been trained with and he wasn’t sure he could do anything but swing it wildly. He was about to charge in when the closest demons exploded, others froze in place, and even more fell to the double blades Arty was holding.
Didi stood with both pistols out and smirking, her eyes scanned for more opponents. When she saw him she smiled and said, “Mr. Apollo. Glad you survived the attack in my workshop.” Why was she wearing the same thing as the princess?
“Didi, what are you talking about?”
“Oh for the goddess’s sake, Ezekiel. I’m Princess Diana of the house of Cillian. I also go by Didi.”
It shook him to the core that the princess he’d lusted after and his nerdy best friend were the same person. More than that, he felt like a fool that he’d escorted an imposter into the castle.
“I went after you and I found you, or someone who looked like you. Oh Goddess, I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been so blind…” He trailed off and dropped the sword.
“That was my brother’s plan? To impersonate me? I sure hope he tries to access my weapons. He’ll get a surprise.” Turning to Ezekiel, she added, “I’ve been stockpiling Gabon venom in case of an airship war. We’re headed to the airfield. You coming with us?”
“Absolutely your highness,” he bowed low.
“Cut it out Zeke. Oh yeah. I’ve been working on this. Try it out.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small guitar case, the size of a fork. As she gave it to him it grew until it was full sized. Inside was an electric guitar.
“What?” he asked.
“It’s self-powered and the amp is built into the body. It’ll convert your playing into magical effects. Mostly it should create a sonic attack but I’m not trained enough to test it.”
The guitar felt right in his hand, like it was made for him, which he supposed it was. He felt extremely fond of Didi at that moment; but as a friend, not romantically.
They walked on in silence, it didn’t take long for another demon attack. He played a power cord and all his rage poured out into a single blast of energy that threw a demon into a wall. If it wasn’t for the royal physician they would have died from acid burns really quickly. If it wasn’t for Didi the princess, still sounded weird, they wouldn’t have had the firepower to kill the demons fast enough.
They made it to the airfield with little trouble; Ezekiel was enjoying his new weapon/guitar too much to notice how easy it was. “This has been too easy,” Arty said.
“What do you have planned, brother?” whispered Didi.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” The false princess was waiting for them inside the royal hangar. She was flanked by a hundred royal guards. “I’m so disappointed that you three have thrown in with this pretender.” The false princess looked smug.
“You know what? I’m not even angry, just annoyed. Who’s the ranking officer here?” No one reacted. They stood at attention staring blankly ahead.
“They belong to me, Sister. You’re out of luck.” With that he melted back into his real form.
Looking at Ezekiel, Didi said, “Help them.” He was going to argue but instead he started to play a rousing ballad. He improvised words dealing with fighting for one’s mind. It worked and the soldiers’ eyes sparked with self-determination.
“I need two airship crews ready in ten minutes. The rest of you get to the city and protect the people.” The soldiers may have their freewill back but they were still conditioned to listen to their superiors.
“You think this matters to me, Sister? I will rule Cillian or I will destroy it.” He laughed as he walked into a portal and disappeared.
The airfield was close to water and they could see through the hangar windows that the sea was churning and purple.
Screams echoed through the hangar as those closest to the windows saw the monstrosity outside. It looked like the demons, but was over a hundred meters tall. It had eight arms, each armed with a sword.
“Looks like he’s leaning towards destroy,” snarked the royal physician.
If you’re enjoying this year’s serial story why not check out those from past years?
Chapter 11: Self-Rescuing Princess
Her brother walked through the doorway spell, cocky and smug as usual. “Hello Sister, I knew you couldn’t resist opening my present.”
“Still copying my work I see.” She wanted to scream and yell but that would be exactly what he wanted.
“Why mess with genius? Come now, big sis. Your work has paved the way for a whole new world.” He waved at the portal behind him.
Diana was about to answer but her brother turned to Ezekiel and yelled, “KNEEL BEFORE YOUR BETTERS FOOL.” There was a spelled command in his yelling. Ezekiel fell to one knee and stayed there frozen. Seeing her anger he said, “Come now, sister. It’ll fade after we leave.”
“Is this where you ask me to join you?” she asked half sarcastically.
“Yes. Join me and we can rule all the worlds together!”
“No! Go back to hell, you power craving, megalomaniac plagiarist.”
He smirked and said, “Plagiarist? Is that the worst thing you can think of? Fine, glad we got that out of the way.” He then said something in a language that sounded like grinding rocks and two large demons came out of the portal and approached her.
“I don’t need you. I just need your mind and that I can extract.” He walked back into the portal.
The problem with the lost prince was his lack of foresight, she thought. She grabbed her sword and started to defend herself. The Demons healed from every cut but as she was fighting them she was also analyzing everything she knew. The spell that made her airships heal had been destroyed by the Gabon Snake venom and it looked like the healing spell was exactly the same.
She’d discovered how to synthesise the venom and mass produce it. The design of the spell and the airships was shared with all of her neighbours. Having a counter that would destroy attacking ships only made sense. At least that’s what she’d thought.
There were three bottles in the cabinet demon was tipping it over. A quick levitation spell got her two bottles and she smashed one on her sword.
The first demon she ran through looked surprised. The next two didn’t, but despite breaking the second bottle she couldn’t stop the blow and one of them bashed her in the head. Her brother wanted her alive and that’s the only reason she lived.
Darkness transitioned to grayness, to soft light filtering through a wooden door. She was in a small closet. She’d have called it a cell but those tended to have bars.
The wooden door was spelled. She stood in front of it and felt the magic. “You’re either an idiot or your demons don’t have great initiative.” She reached into her apron and pulled out a small hammer. The first time she hit the door with it the floor shook, the second time the door flew out and exploded into a hail of splinters. The demon who was standing outside was perfectly perforated.
His blood ate the wood and his spelled healing took seconds to fix the damage.
“Get back inside the cell.”
“What? No please?”
“I don’t recognise your rule.”
“Princess or pauper, it’s just polite.”
The demon grunted and pointed at the closet, now a nook.
“Just a hint for the future. If you’re holding a spell caster or a tinker, make sure to take everything away from them and leave them naked.” She put her hand into her pockets.
“What could you be hiding in those-” he never finished the statement. She took her pistols out from the extradimensional space in her pockets and fired a shot through his head. He fell to the ground and dissolved. The healing spell couldn’t deal with massive head trauma… that was good to know. She hadn’t used the pistols in her lab; too many explosives.
“Never trust a woman with pockets. You never know what we’re hiding.” She reloaded her pistol and started to wonder how she was going to get home.
The easiest way was to open a portal to her world but without an anchor, there was no way of knowing where she’d end up and travelling across the world would take too long.
The demon blood sizzled. Who knows what they were like before her brother had warped and corrupted them?
“Blood!” The demon blood. These creatures were not native to her world. Which meant that they were all in the same place.
She picked up a little blood with a spelled beaker and concentrated on the spell she needed. Pulling out ingredients she only had a little time to wonder why no one had come to check on her yet.
When the mixture with the blood was ready she threw it at the wall and jumped through, praying to the goddess that she was right.
She landed in a crouch and looked around. She was surrounded by angry screaming demons.
From behind her she heard Fred, the royal healer, “I think we pissed them off.”
And Arty’s voice, “Maybe, or it could be a coincidence.”
“The two of you look like you could use some help,” Diana said smirking at Arty.
“Aren’t you supposed to be figuring out how to get rid of these things?” Fred didn’t miss a beat.
“Gabon Venom, Paul’s leading them, and he’s using my spells. Oh, and I had to escape being captured.”
Nodding, Fred said, “So we need to get to the royal airship and the Gabon stores?” When she nodded, he added, “I think it’s going to rain.”
If you’re enjoying this year’s serial story why not check out those from past years?
Chapter 10: A Monk, a Physician, and the Demon Hordes of Aldroy
The royal Physician was formidable in combat. Artemis couldn’t help but be impressed by this short, rotund, dark skinned man, with a greying beard. He looked like he should be serving his grandkids soup for lunch, not battling a hoard of angry demons.
With one hand he healed the soldiers and civilians and with the other he wielded a blade made of magic and fire.
Artemis had picked up two of the smaller swords that the demons were using and she was getting the hang of slicing off heads.
“I thought monks didn’t like to use weapons?” the Physician asked.
“I thought healers didn’t like using attack magic,” she replied, ducking a broad sword swing from a very naked demon and lunging at his head with her swords crossed like scissors.
“We all need our hobbies.” He smirked as the head fell to the ground. He neutralized the poison with a wave of his hand and the body dissolved.
“Some people pick up crotchet or cooking.” She liked verbally sparing with him. It had a soothing quality. The fact that he knew that she was a woman helped. She felt more at ease with him than she had with anyone since she arrived on the island.
“Do you cook or crotchet not-yet-a-master-monk?” He swung his sword up and it turned into a umbrella, shielding the civilians under him from flaming arrows. A demon at the end of the street had a cannon that shot arrows at an alarming speed. Their tech was very similar to Cillian tech. Artemis didn’t like the implications of that.
Throwing her sword at the demon and catching him in the neck she said, “No. I fight with weapons.” She heard the guffaw from the Physician as she launched herself at the demon with her sword in its throat. Once again she was glad the demons treated their blades against their own acid blood.
As she finished off the demon, his neck exploded in green acidic blood. Artemis felt the acid fly into her face and chest. She lost grip on one of her swords and felt the pain that came with it the acidic blood followed by a stabbing pain in her chest.
Instinct took over and she spun into a round house kick. She connected with something big and broke a few of what felt like ribs. She’d been trained to fight blind by the masters and her other previous teachers. The fact that her kick hit the thing’s chest and not its head meant it was well above seven feet high.
Not wasting any time, she went low and kicked at the things legs as a distraction as she launched into a complicated set of thrusts and slashes. She wasn’t trying to kill the, hopefully, demon, but get it off balance enough to stun it until Fred, the Physician, could heal her wounds.
She sliced and kicked the demon and prepared for a massive blow to its head but never made it. The demon grunted and hit the weapon in her chest and she fell back. The pain was almost more than her training could handle and she couldn’t get up.
“I leave you alone for ten seconds.” Fred’s voice and magic warmed her when she didn’t even know she was cold.
The magic was fast and powerful. She felt the sword pushed from her chest and she grabbed it as it came out. Standing, she assumed a defensive posture and opened her eyes.
She had two swords again and looked fierce but next to the behemoth in front of her she looked puny. He was stark naked and obviously aroused, he had multiple slashes and bruises, and his for hands held three weapons. Behind him, glowing ominously, was a swirling portal.
“Four arms? And eight feet tall? What magic made you?” Her quips were a little weak. She was still a little disoriented. She felt Fred’s hand on her neck and suddenly she felt like she’d drank eight coffees.
“I am the lLor Commander of the Demon Hordes of Aldroy. I command ten thousand and will squash you like the tiny human boy you are.”
Rolling her eyes, Artemis said, “I’ve wanted to say this for months. I am no boy.”
The fight lasted longer than it should have. Despite his size and strength, he was clumsy. Fighting with two short swords and a six foot two handed sword meant he was limited in his movements.
She took her time learning his movements and then pushed him hard and fast. Every hit she blocked felt like a hammer on her arms but every third hit of hers landed. At first his cuts didn’t seem to slow him down but eventually he showed the effects of his wounds.
Just as she was getting confident in her movements and ready to go for the death blow he laughed and tripled his speed. He’d been toying with her the whole time. His hits that were hard and slow suddenly became powerful, quick, and calculated.
To become a master, a Monk of Dumas needed to pass a test and a ceremony but most importantly they needed to do an act of heroism. Artemis had expected that to mean a great feat or strength or something impressive. In that moment, Artemis realized that it was more than that, the monks needed to reach a state of complete control and inner peace.
As she parried the blows all her training disappeared from her mind and was replaced with calm thoughts. She fell into a trained rhythm and concentrated on her breathing and her body. As she did, she called on everything she’d ever learnt and it all fell into place like a giant puzzle.
The world slowed and she moved at an inhuman speed. In the amount of time it took the demon to swing his two handed sword, she cut his head off and kicked it across the street.
Every demon stopped, fell to their knees, and let out a hideous howl of rage and pain.
Portals appeared all around them and the Demon Hordes of Aldroy stepped out into the city.
“I think we pissed them off,” Fred said, eyes wide.
“Maybe, or it could be a coincidence.”
If you’re enjoying this year’s serial story why not check out those from past years?