One week: that’s how long it had taken Agent Tooth to find the Boogeyman; one week of no sleep that might as well have been a decade; one week in which the missing girl could have been eaten down to her bones; one week that would have stretched far longer without the oh-so-recently-escaped Dr. Mansnoozie’s help.
She supposed there were aspects of this situation she should be commended for: the initial finding of the Boogeyman, the immediate subsequent finding of Dr. Mansnoozie, the rescue and release of the girl, her superior negotiation skills.
Or perhaps not that last one–after all her arguments, the Boogeyman hadn’t really looked convinced until Dr. Mansnoozie had murmured something into his ear, something that she had heard as, “the Agent will be better for you.”
Oh, how the Boogeyman had smiled, how the girl had bolted from the house as his long fingers unwrapped from her arms.
Tooth found herself hoping for a rescue less than that they would let her have a fair fight.
One look at Dr. Mansnoozie convinced her he knew this, too.
“If I manage to get a bite of you, promise me you’ll keep my teeth,” she said.