<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;">Cleo had seen the sort many many times, the jokester, a quip for any thing, some were actually downright scary and useful. Time would tell about this Alexander person. <br/>Still it wouldn't hurt to let the 'boy' know she was capable of dealing back when needed.<br/><br/>Her tome was exactly that of a mother with a small boy, "tell you what Bartholomew you can call me grandma, only if i can call you reach down your throat and yank out your tongue."  Cleo smiled sweetly but her eyes were steely and intense. <br/><br/>She pulled open her bag and unwrapped the oil cloth to check out her heavy revolver, loading the big caliber shells and then snapping it shut and twisting a bit to put it behind her back in a holster built into the white duster she wore.</span></span><br/><br/><br/>