"And the bastard never saw it coming."
Giles had given up not-wincing hours ago. Anya didn't seem to notice. He did still believe he had a chance of escape, but before he could make good on it, she'd started into another story.
"And then there was the death of a thousand cuts. Of course I waited, oh, about ten minutes between each cut and poured salt into the wounds. The wisher wanted me to stop, you wouldn't believe how lily-livered some women can be, but of course once the wish is made, it has to run its full course. The one after that was boring. I just pulled out some guy's intestines. Did you know how long intestines are? I could have knit a sweater with that thing, I mean, if I knew how to knit. Do you think I should knit something for Xander?"
Giles imagined knitted intestines and shuddered.
"Oh, not with an intestine. They're too thick. Imagine the needles you'd need for that sweater. It's just, well, I was reading this magazine and it said that girlfriends knit and sew and bake cakes. Do you think Xander would want me to knit?"
That was it. A vengeance demon was bad enough. He wasn't about to try handling an insecure girlfriend. "Ah, I just remembered, I have an appointment. I'll be out the rest of the day. The shop is yours."
