‘Hey, Past Handy? It’s me, your buddy, Future Handy. Not to be a raging dick or anything, but what the flying fuck did you get me into? Oh God.’ Handy had gripped his war hammer by the head, lining its heft up with his arm. He let his grip loosen on the head until it slipped down his fist, stopping its descent by clasping his fist around the lower part of the haft. The bull was upon him now, and the axe descended. ‘God be with me, this is insane.’