“Are you absolutely, one-hundred PERCENT SURE. That you don’t want some Mantel-Mix?” The large brute of a handsome clone asked again, his brows raised. Wrecker’s size made the bag look tiny as he shook the purple colored treat in your face.

“Alright. More for WRECKER!” He laughed. Omega sat on his shoulder. The little girl laughed giddily as she dropped some Mix into Wrecker’s mouth.