/pops Die Hard into VCR/ Well, the prequel (edited typo), where a Johnny McLane got rid of a group of terrorists trying to take over the college Christmas party.
And he certainly did not hear the carefree whistling as the man entered into his work shed, "Joy To The World" spilling out of his pursed lips.
He could be gone, miles away, before the man even knew what had happened.
![[Linked Image]](http://karakush.com.au/Portals/0/Beep%20Beep/roadrunner.gif)
"Can't," S said, shrugging.
"Can't?"
"Don't have a name," he said after a moment, mumbling mostly to himself.
But he'd use his strength only if it was necessary. He didn't want to hurt the man in any way.
Yeah. Cam won’t be happy about that.
He wasn't a monster, the way Trask wanted him to be.
Not monster. Weapon. Well, smart bomb, really. /tries to remember which sci-fi movie had an A.I. controlled nuclear device with suicidal tendencies/
Everyone in Bureau Thirty-Nine kept their distance from him. Even Jenson rarely ever touched him, the once familiar pats on his shoulder now a thing of the distant past.
Not even a dog-collar and sticks (edited typo) snapped to it to lead him around?
"I can't help unless I know the problem. Is this person a family member?"
S shook his head. "No family at all."
"A caretaker then?"
S nodded. It was close enough to the truth. Although, S thought, master was more like it.
"Does he hurt you?"
"Sometimes," S said, feeling somewhat ashamed of the admission.
"What does he do?"
"I can't say."
Yeah, Jonathan is in no way going to think that alien probing had gone on there.
