KYLE
“You can either pass me the syrup or witness a first-degree murder where you’re the victim,” Lilith pointed a table knife at Eric, “the choice is yours.”
Although that might sound like a disturbing statement to throw around, to us, it was just a regular jail term threat being thrown around between friends just before desert.
“That thing is as blunt as your sense of reasoning, so I’ll take my chances, honey,” Eric eyed the table knife before grabbing the syrup bottle and pushing it farther away from her.
Lilith used the knife to whack him right in the middle of his head and laughed, “Why bother stabbing you when I can just whack you to death?”
“I dare you,” Eric rubbed the spot where he’d been hit.
“I’ll take that action,” she smirked.
Several whacks later, and I had to tear her
