Perfect Kismet

Star . Pencil . January 31, 2006
Star's chuckle ground out between clenched teeth, ending in a groan. Goddamn. Luck was a fickle lady, indeed. He'd been alone, unwatchful and exposed just once…

Not bad luck. Stupidity. That he was still breathing? Entirely luck.

Before indulging in retribution, he would make sure the mook knew that was the most inept hit he had ever witnessed. What kind of fool misses a stationary target? Repeatedly. That was worth laughing through the pain.

Of course, if Lady Luck wasn't such a bitch they might've missed entirely. Because the last laugh was on him if he died from this dumbshit.

Wrote the drabble at lunch, finished the picture a few minutes ago... my playlist's shuffle function decided Switchblade Symphony's version of "Lucky Star" would be good to play while I resized and posted it. Cute.