"I'm not feeling so good." annouced Billy/Quincy, clutching his stomach. Everyone stood clear of him as Van Helsing and Buck strode toward the back of the building.
"Your revolver...." "Silver bullets an' all, Doc. I take it this is the boss bat..." "Indeed. Once more we must strive forth to protect the innocent and stand against the forces of evil." "I'm getting overtime for this, I hope you know." A moment more and there came a barred doorway. Van Helsing's heart sank as yet again, Buck tore into his pockets for the keys.
"Hold on....just one.....no; damnation. Wrong one. Here....no, dang. This is for my desktop. Been lookin' for it, too..." "Buck, please! Time is of the essence! Poor Renfield..." "Remfield." "What?" "The guy signed his name Remfield." "So what? Who are you going to listen to: a man over 100 years old who chases bats and hairy people who howl at the moon or someone enslaved to evil who eats bugs?" "Ah...."
That moment, up ran Jillian. Dillion, with a encouraging mew, padded rapidly thru the the gaps between the doors bars as the young lass spoke.
"Buck; there's a mob of angry citizens with pitchfork, clubs and torches approuching from down the street." "Oh, grits-on-a-stick; ain't that dandy. Where they at, exactly? I gotta get Billy on 'em." "They seemed to stopped for the moment at the diner. Mondaynight football is on." "Praise the lord; that gives us to halftime. Oh, the key!"
In seconds the door was open and they dashed into the recesses of the jail.
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