I was flying, headfirst, across the hardwood floor. a banshee landed on my back, tried to grapple my wrist behind me.
«I’ve got her!» the banshee yelled.
My petunia, she did. I’m not as nice a person as I used to be. I twisted, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked on it hard enough to give myself a sympathy headache.
Smakebit på søndag er Ladybug sin faste utfordring. Finn fram et spennende/morsomt/interessant etc sitat fra boka du leser, og bli med da vel!