Oh really?

Allie Fletcher was steaming in her cell. At least,
that's what it felt like. She was so damn hot.
"Where the hell is Phil and White Wolf?" she
groaned.
Allie dragged her damaged body to the cell door.
"Hey guard!" she croaked.
One of the guards (she had learned his name was
Tony) came up to the door. "Yes?"
"I wanna talk to White Wolf," she demanded. "Now."
Tony shook his head. "You can't. He's on an away
mission right now. Won't be back for a couple days or
so."
Allie growled. Literally. The damage was messing up
her mind good. "Away mission my ass!" She shot Tony a
fearsome glance. He backed away.
"White Wolf, White Wolf on the hunt," Allie began to
recite. "White Wolf on the trail of a living little
runt. Forget about Allie, she's just a deadie. Who
cares about Allie? We'll get her when we're good and
ready."
She smiled manically. "I am so insane," she giggled,
and returned to her state of comatose sleep.
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