Son of the Evil Moon _ Stephen King
"I'm not going to arrest you. I'm just going to talk quickly so that we can have a consensus in our hearts." The last place I want to be is Stevenson's patrol car. But if I refuse, he may take more drastic measures to detain me. Besides, even if I try to resist arrest, how far can I run if I get on my bicycle and run away as fast as I can? The sun would come out in a few hours, and the best I could do was to escape to the neighboring towns along the coast. Even if I have plenty of time, my XP will not allow me to leave Moonlight Bay. Only here can I get home before sunrise, or find a bosom friend to take me in and give me darkness. I'm in a good mood today. Said Stevenson again. He gnashed his teeth, and his tone of voice returned to its original severity. I'm really in the mood today. Would you like to come with me? Yes, sir. I have no objection. He made a gesture with a pistol that Olsen and I should go ahead of him. I led the bicycle to the end of the pier, reluctantly letting Stevenson walk behind us with a gun. I don't have to be an animal communicator to know that Olsen is as nervous as I am. At the end of the pier's boardwalk, the concrete walkway is lined with Gerbera daisies, which bloom during the day and close their petals at night. In the dim light,stesweet stevia, snails with shiny antennae crawled on the sidewalk, leaving slimy silvery slime, some crawling from the right flower bed to the left flower bed that looked exactly the same, while others labored from left to right in the opposite direction. It seems that these humble mollusks are just as discontented and restless as humans. I led the cart in a zigzag to avoid running over the snails, and Olsen sniffed the snails on the ground as he walked,lutein eye complex, carefully stepping over them. Behind us, the sound of "crunching" snail shells was heard, accompanied by the sound of soft snail bodies being trampled into mud. Stevenson did not trample on anything he saw. He only crushed snails that were right in his way. Some snail shells were crushed briskly by him, others were kicked hard by him several times, and the soles of his shoes were heavily on the concrete floor, which sounded like the knocking of iron ladders. I can't bear to look back. I was afraid to see a cruel sneer. I was bullied by the little Taibao in my childhood. It was not until I had the wisdom and physical strength to fight back that I got out of those days. But the expressions on their faces at that time are still vivid in my mind. To put that expression on a child's face is frightening enough, but to put the same expression on an adult's face, let alone a police chief with a gun in his hand and a badge on his body, the same expression — the sinister and sly eyes, glucosamine sulfate and chondroitin sulfate ,naringenin price, the cheeks flushed by the waves, the cold-blooded lips with a tooth-bared sneer — immediately swells countless times. Stevenson's black and white police car was parked on a red brick thirty feet to the left of Marina's exit, not only missing the street lamp, but also shaded by the shadow of a tall Indian laurel tree. Even in this dim light, I could see the expression on his face that I most feared to see: resentment, loss of reason, and rising anger were enough to turn a man into the most ferocious beast in the world. Stevenson has never shown a vicious side in the past. He seems incapable of being mean to others, let alone resent them. If he suddenly told me he wasn't the real Louis. Stevenson, but an alien disguised as the chief, which I would probably not hesitate to believe. Stevenson made a gesture with his gun to Olsen to listen to his orders. "Get in the car, you bastard." "He'll be fine out there." I say Get in! Urge impatiently. Olsen peered suspiciously into the open car door and groaned in disbelief. Let it wait outside. I said, "It never runs away." "Get it in the car." Said Stevenson coldly. This town has a mandatory leash policy, Snow. We never ask you to follow it. We always put our heads aside and pretend we don't see anything, because.. Because handicapped dogs have immunity. I don't want to get into an argument with Steven over the word "handicap.".
Anyway, I didn't have much interest in these two words. What interested me was the six words he almost blurted out: "Because of your mother." "But this time," he said, "I'm not going to sit here and watch that rotten dog hang around, defecate on the sidewalk and show off that he doesn't need a chain." If he felt that handicapped dogs should be immune from the law, why did he claim that Olsen boasted that he didn't need to be chained? Although I noticed his language defect, I continued to remain silent. When he is full of hostility, arguing with him is only harmful to me. "If I can't get him," Stevenson said, "you'll be responsible for getting him into the car." I couldn't help hesitating and trying to find other feasible ways. As time went by, the situation between us became more and more tense. I don't think the monkey nuisance at Bay Point was as critical as it is now. Get this mother***er in the car, now! Stevenson said in a commanding tone. He didn't even need to step on it. His vicious tone alone was enough to kill the snails. His voice alone was enough. I was still at a disadvantage because he had a gun in his hand, and the only consolation was that he obviously didn't know I was armed. However, at this moment, I have no choice but to cooperate as much as possible. Get in the car, partner. I told Olsen, trying to sound nonchalant and not let my pounding heart leave any trembling marks in my words. Olsen reluctantly did as I told him. Louis Stevenson slammed the back door and opened the front door. Now it's your turn,saw palmetto extract, Snow. I sat in the passenger seat in the front of the car, while Stevenson walked around the black and white police car to the driver's side and sat behind the wheel. He pulled the door shut and told me to do the same on my side, though I had been deliberately not to do so. prius-biotech.com
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