“Yeah, yeah.” I put the box back under the counter. “Takes about two hours to full charge using static electricity, quicker if you find a piece of carpet and start rubbing your arm against it. Theoretically you could attach it to a power-pad but I wouldn’t recommend it—too much power too quick might blow the containment field.”
“Wow, King Henry,” Tyson said, his face all lit up as he swung a lazy punch across his chest that was far too much arm and not enough body torque. “This is awesome. It’s just how I imagined it.”
“Speaking of that, satisfy some curiosity on this…how did you imagine it?”
A brief bit of embarrassment crossed his lit up face, his forehead crinkling. “Stole it from a fantasy novel.”
“****…”
“I know, you hate the things.”
I shook my head. Hated them? Nope, I was jealous that they had it so easy with their ‘magic’. The Mancy’s a long way from some wand flipping and twirling. “Next, you’ll want me to make you a lightsaber.”
His eyes got bright with crazy dreams. “Could you?”
Read more on Tyson in The Foul Mouth and the Fanged Lady by Richard Raley: available on Amazon and Smashwords and Nook. Or just type "Foul Mouth" into your Kindle...they'll know what you're talking about.
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