Jeremy

“Harry, I must say,” Toot-Toot said, dropping his voice to a stage sotto voce, “that’s frozen pizza. What are you doing?” “It’s symbolic pizza,” I said. “Symbolic pizza sucks!” Toot shouted. “None of it is good for you,” Lacuna insisted. “Guys!” I said. “The pizza—all the pizza—is in danger!” That got their attention. Toot-Toot whirled to face me in horror. “What?!” Lacuna’s face suffused with joy. “What!?” I gave them the kindergarten-level, probably cheaply animated rundown on who Ethniu was. “And now,” I concluded, “she’s coming here to kill all the people.” “Uh-huh,” Toot said, nodding, listening, completely supportive. “And me,” I said. “Uh-huh,” Toot said, brightly, waiting. “And all the pizza shops,” I said. “Oh no!” Toot wailed. He buzzed in a vertical circle. “Oh no, oh no, oh no!”
― Jim Butcher, Battle Ground