"Why are you adding to my list of problems with this stupid accusation? Your IQ would be 250 if it were multiplied by ten. Do you know what that means? Your IQ's a little lower than room temperature, in Celsius."
"Oh, there he is. Lay it on me, buddy."
Even with Bernard's tone devoid of any friendliness, and what might even be said as hostile, Prophet didn't seem scared or care at all. Dorothy and Jake were already sweating, and the couch they were sitting on was practically soaked already, literally.
This wasn't even the tone he used for them when they interrogated him about the first Megaland Ripper murder—he was strict with them, but he didn't seem as unfriendly, nor did he sound exhausted.
But now, right in front of the person he grew up with, he sounded as if he was just one whiff of wind away from snapping. Dorothy even had her hand on her gun, ready to act at any moment.
