My Cardboard Balcony

Klondike Bar What would I do for a Klondike bar? Kill a man. No, I'm kidding. I'd do nothing. 'Cause that pseudo-chocolate shit is overrated.

"How much stereotypically rugged terrain are we going to have to trudge across before this blasted expedition is over?" growled Quinoni, brushing her too long bangs away from her eyepatch. Even two weeks after the scuffle in the tavern, her eye had not fully healed. She and Arvey were both beginning to worry that she would lose sight in that eye. Mistress Kor, for the first time, seemed distressed. "I don't know anymore, Miss Wuntyn."