“Five,” Maddie responded instantly. She paused, and then corrected herself, “Make that three.” There was no desire to expand on her answer. Marty could do the math. Two of her siblings were dead. “Only one capable of ass-kickery, though.”
“I could pay you in booze. Or sandwiches,” she added with a grin. “Money might not have value anymore, but lots of other things do. It’s all in what you’re looking for.”
Maddie echoed the man’s laughter, amused at the thought of him actually asking Kori Stone to make him a Sandwich Guy costume. “Let me know if you do. I want to be there to see her expression when you ask her.” No doubt that would be priceless.
Brows rose at Marty’s reaction to her sidekick condition. Gets ‘em every time. “That’s too bad. I make an awesome sidekick.” She nodded sincerely, proud of herself for actually managing to keep from bursting into laughter at the thought of Sandwich Guy with a Bieber theme song.
“Is it really nice to meet me?” She asked, leaning back in her chair. “People say that phrase a lot, but they don’t always mean it. If you meet someone who’s a dick and you tell them it’s nice to meet them just because it’s the polite thing to say, that dickish person will go on thinking he’s all nice and awesome every time he meets somebody new. And he won’t ever know he’s a dick because, well, nobody ever friggin’ tells him.”
“It’s weird to meet you, Sandwich Guy. And, in case you’re wondering, you’re not a dick. So far.”