WISHFUL THINKING
Just as the door closed and locked behind her, Jane heard the guard chuckle. She was glad this was all so very amusing to the illiterate, green, slime-ridden imperial grunt.
In fact, she hoped he died here, in this putrid, dank outpost on the edge of nowhere. And while she was spending time wishing ill upon others, she hoped he never got a descent night's sleep ever again, that his tongue swelled too much to talk, and that his pecker fell off at the next most inconvenient opportunity.
She looked around the dungeon and sniffed. She'd been in better.
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