Well, she'd always figured they'd be awfully ugly, coming from hollows and all, but this one took the cake. Hell, even Ganjyu could manage to squeak by him looks wise if he dressed up real nice for the occasion. Her bare feet touched the grass with a comfortable familiarity.
This was her turf after all. She had the home town advantage, if you could call it that. And, for coming on it, this sack of shit had better have a pretty damn good excuse. Not that she'd listen to it until she made sure he learned not to come onto it again.
"Can't say I blame you for hating the shinigami, with you bein' a hollow and all," she drawled, blowing out a puff of smoke from the long pipe in her hand. She couldn't be assed to drop everything she was doing to deal with this punk.
"Yeah?" Grimmjow matched her tone, the potent energy in his frame apparent. He was figuring out just how the hell to deal with this bitch. She wasn't making this little visit to the Soul Society as easy as it looked. "So, you're gonna-"
"So," Kuukaku cut him off, not liking it when people interrupted her, especially when it made for much longer conversations that she figured she liked having. "I'm gonna aim for that hole in your chest. And that's gonna be your warning shot."
She shifted her pipe to light the first bomb, "Now, that's the only one you're gonna get. But, I ain't gonna cry if I miss and hit somewhere else. In fact," she grinned and her lips promised Grimmjow his fair share of violence, "I'm counting on it missing."