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[After this.]
Whistler is still talking. Angel is really wishing he would stop.
"...Because it’s not safe for you here."
"And it’s going to be safe for me there? The End of the Universe? How is THAT supposed to be safe?"
"You know, that’s a good point...."
"GAH!! Look. Whistler. I owe you a lot. You’ve got...heaps of credit with me and everything. But unless you have a plan for getting me to Milliways? It’s not going to happen."
"...Actually? You might not get there anyway."
"...What?"
Whistler was looking at something over Angel's shoulder.
That was never good.
"Ohhh, what now?," Angel turns--. "Oh. Good. A demon lord. Xerxes the Eviscerator. And his mob."
"There must be like fifty demons there. What'd he do, bring everybody?"
"Uhh, no. Only the really dangerous ones."
"Oh, good. ‘Cause I thought we might be in trou--."
"ANGEL! YOU KNEW THIS WAS COMING. YOU AND YOUR MINION WILL LOOK MOST EXCELLENT WITH YOUR HEADS ON THE ENDS OF MY PIKES."
Whistler now looks even more pasty-faced than usual. "...So I guess we’re only completely screwed then."
"Relax. We’re fine."
"Oh, great. This is how you’re getting back at me in the end. Taking me down with you while you do the whole Champion thing I pushed you into--."
"No, it’s because I have friends in high places."
"Higher than him?"
Angel looks up. "...Not for long."
BOOM!!
Whistler is already diving for cover, but he figures it's going to be a while before his retinas let go of the image of a gigantic dragon hurtling down on top of Xerxes and crushing him into the pavement in a burst of meat, bone, and other messy demon parts.
Angel is still standing, enjoying the view, and wearing the first true smirk he’s had since L.A. went straight to hell.
"You know, Whistler," he calls out to the spot right behind the second dumpster. "Once in a while a plan turns out just like—-oh, no. No, NO, NO!! NOT AGAI--!!!".
The demon's head jerks out from behind the dumpster just in time to see a dimensional portal slamming shut, with Angel on the other side. Leaving Whistler all alone with one pulverized demon lord and the last few of his minions who haven’t been eaten yet.
And, of course, one titanic dragon.
Whistler could really use an inhaler right about now.
"Ha-ha-ha—hey. Ho—How you doin’ up there? Thanks for the assist, you know, uhh--."
Three more flailing demons go down the open, jagged-tooth-filled maw with one sweep of the dragon’s enormous head. Their screams echo off the alley walls.
"N-nice dragon?"
"Man, I’m glad you think evil tastes better."
[Continued.]