[Not fast enough. The can hits him in the chest, and his hands scrabble for it, playing a game of hot potato for a second, before it hits the floor and he nearly jumps out of fear of it exploding all over him in a sticky shower of pop.
But it... doesn't. It just rolls a few feet and stops.]
... Maybe not so much with the fast thinking at three in the morning, but you can't fault a guy for that.
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But it... doesn't. It just rolls a few feet and stops.]
... Maybe not so much with the fast thinking at three in the morning, but you can't fault a guy for that.