It was his face that rivetted Ikematsu's attention, while the chimera squirmed in dumb distress, glaring with huge piteous eyes. For in that face, set into it as if set in pudding, was the zen gun. The gun was his face, or a part of it. The barrel pointed straight out in place of a nose... the stock merged with and disappeared into Pout's pendulous mouth.
Ikematsu leaned toward the chimera. "How you loved your toy! Now it is truly yours!"
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