Karl Childers: “What you reckon you got in there that’s good to eat?”
Jaqen H'ghar: “A man has chili dogs, nachos, hamburgers. A man has bacon cheeseburgers, too.”
Karl Childers: “Got any potted meat?”
Jaqen H'ghar: “No, a man does not have potted meat.”
Karl Childers: “Hmmm. What you reckon you like to eat?”
Jaqen H'ghar: “A man must decide for himself what a man would like to eat.”
Karl Childers: “Hmmm. Got any biscuits in there?””
Jaqen H'ghar: “No, a man does not have any biscuits. A man has french fries, a man thinks those are good to eat.”
Karl Childers: “Kindly give me some of them.”
Jaqen H'ghar: “Would a man like the small, or the large?”
Karl Childers: “I reckon I’ll take the bigguns.”
Jaqen H'ghar: “Would a man like anything else?”
Karl Childers: “Hmmm. I like the way you talk.”
Jaqen H'ghar: “A man likes the way you talk, also.”
Corporal Travis dreamed of partnering with a police dog, but Fate handed him a faery and something unexpected instead.. As his normal world spirals into chaos, he is thrust into a centuries-old conflict with stakes higher than he ever imagined.
In a near-future Baltimore, an unemployed bipolar journalist and a teenage hacker are the last hope for a dystopian world controlled by a giant media corporation.
Karl Childers: “What you reckon you got in there that’s good to eat?”
