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Riley Aventine (amulius) wrote,

"Who knows?" Riley asked with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "It's government run, far as I know, and that means that the deed's probably wrapped up in more red tape and bureaucratic bullshit than you glamor could cut through, even with your folks from the TV." His upper lip curled, "Don't need to own a place to burn it down or fill it up with boulders, weld up the front door and forget about it." As far as Riley was concerned, that could have been the end of it, except that Dean Hartwick had refused - just to spite him, he was sure. That bastard. He could still taste his blood on his teeth, and that felt damn good.

Riley sat back in his chair. "The place in this area is called the House of His Holy Light. Holy Light for sure." He said with obvious disgust. "There was some kind of petition rollin' around before they built the place to stop them from doin' it, but that was before your folks got the right to vote." His nose twitched, "Pretty sure they get government funding, buncha fuckin' wackos, what they are. Church people are usually decent folks, but these ain't church people, and that ain't a church. Christ as light is a damn metaphor that those dumb fucks don't understand."