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| Marv |
'Some people are just born mean,' said Moobs, staring at Marv through the camp fire.
Dave's gang were holed up for the night, a few hours walk north of Motown, trying to get comfy and cooking rats on a stick.
'I heard he got that bolter shanking someone on the shitter,' added Donny, quietly.
'I was there,' whispered Spike, leaning in uncomfortably close for someone covered in spikes. 'He took his boots too, while the poor sod was still trying to breathe. Cold as you like.'
The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, mulling that over.
Moobs spat. 'Reckon he might be due a bit of an accident.'
The others, now also staring at Marv through the fire, nodded in agreement.
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