fuckitybye

He'd gotten the "forehead vein" thing from other people before, not least from that bloated ballsack general during the war runup, years ago. And it very nearly earned Martha another earful, except that the hypospray took Malcolm by surprise and he yelped, more from being startled than any actual pain. "Fuck's sake—" he began. He blinked; for a moment his ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton wool, and then the sensation quickly passed, followed by the pain in his head, which receded like floodwaters to a dull throb.

"I'll be fucked." He rubbed his forehead. "That shit worked."