Sparrow sat in the back of the car, rocking slightly. He couldn't control his thoughts. It was almost as if someone else was in control.
Cor. That Emily has a cracking pair, don't she?
It was highly annoying.
So, that String-Boy and Icey-Face ain't too keen on each other. Eh, they're both pricks anyway. Bet it's like looking in a mirror for both of them.
Sparrow struggled to control his thoughts, but he couldn't even think to himself. Everytime he tried, the voice in his head just replaced his thoughts.
What the fuck is this tin can anyway? For an evil Russian project, you don't exactly travel in style, dipshit.