There was nothing like a good stogie to calm a man down. Exhaling smoke, Hellboy came into Rangeman, looking more then cranky and less then calm. Still, he was better then he could be. He could have given in and re-arranged John Winchester's face, for example. But he hadn't. He was the very picture of self-control. Right? Right. He really hated freelancers; sure, he was technically working for some -- but in the village's defacto set up, they'd at least made themselves public and accoutnable... read more
