[The way Dist stares back in utter disbelief, Rideaux might as well have just punched him in the jaw. That really knocks the wind right out of him, and he can't even find the words to hurl back in Rideaux's direction. But oh does his expression go through a glorious transition of mortified silence to seething rage as his lips curl into a snarl. If he wasn't such a noodle, his glass probably would've shattered by how hard he's gripping it.
Rideaux you disgusting, petty, foul-mouted son of a--]
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Rideaux you disgusting, petty, foul-mouted son of a--]