Squeezable sport-drink bottle of carbon tetrachloride (yeah, I know; illegal) to spray in the dragon’s face when he inhales for the next blast, might put out his pilot light if he’s old enough to not have a modern snap-igniter. Haven’t figured a way to get around the impervious-scales situation.
We have the best government money can buy, and the purchasers that run phone lines get paid by whomever uses the lines/connections, regardless of the intent of the user. Simple concept, convoluted sentence.
Neither was Roy’s character, but here his mind inhabits those universes. Then Rita sends them into collision. Does anyone else hear the Cantina Theme spinning through Roy’s collapse.
Looks like the Blank Slate has some valuable and readily available depth.