Casey
I walk through the door and smoke falls out from it, I sniff, Cuban. Growling lowly I pull my gun from underneath my pants. I quietly creep into the living room, where a lithe figure is blowing smoke ringsā¦IN MY CHAIR.
"Who are you?"
The lights turn on.
"George, my name is George, Colonel Casey," the tiny girl smirks, "and you have something that belongs to me."
