Oh my God. 192?

Miss Snark gets 192 entries in fifteen minutes for her 100-word contest.

I suppose she is relieved that I was at work and unable to inflict mine on her. I did take the time to write one, though, and feel that I have the right to inflict somebody with it, so here it is:

“Listen up, moonbeam,” grizzled Dan Lazar. “A helicopter with a snazzy paint job ain’t near as good as a griffin.”

Reacher hated to be called moonbeam. “Get with the times, old man!”

Lazar snorted. “What are you gonna do when that helicopter runs out of gas, moonbeam?” He turned and stroked Elizabeth’s cheek. “You’ll never run out of gas, will ya darling?”

Elizabeth smiled in the manner of smiling that griffins have and lifted her tail slightly. The smell hit Reacher a second later.

“No,” he thought, “these two will never run out of gas.”