With a small paintbrush she began applying it to the nails on her left hand. “It’s perfectly harmless... when it’s dry.”
She finished her left hand. She waved it in the air for a few seconds, then began painting the nails on her right hand.
“It’s only toxic while it’s wet.” She finished painting her nails, then stood up.
She reached over and touched Stanley’s face with her fingers. She ran her sharp wet nails very gently down his cheek.
He felt his skin tingle. The nail on her pinkie just barely touched the wound behind his ear.
A sharp sting of pain caused him to jump back. The Warden turned to face Mr. Sir, who was sitting on the fireplace hearth.
“So you think he stole your sunflower seeds?” “No, he says he stole them, but I think it was—”
She stepped toward him and struck him across the face. Mr. Sir stared at her.
He had three long red marks slanting across the left side of his face. Stanley didn’t know if the redness was caused by her nail polish or his blood.
It took a moment for the venom to sink in. Suddenly, Mr. Sir screamed and clutched his face with both hands.
He let himself fall over, rolling off the hearth and onto the rug. The Warden spoke softly. “I don’t especially care about your sunflower seeds.”
Mr. Sir moaned. “If you must know,” said the Warden, “I liked it better when you smoked.”
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