“Dodgy bastard,” one of the twins spat. A trickle of blood from his temple made it hard to tell which one. “Shite for brains,” the other replied, reversing their positions and landing a punch to the gut. “We’re twins. If I’m a bastard, you’re one too.”

“You’re a bastard,’ she whispered, her hands beginning to tremble as she scooped up one of the figurines. I could tell by the costume it was Pulcinella, his body split in half. The head completely shattered. ‘You’re a selfish bastard.”

“A tale is told of twin boys born to different mothers.One is dark by nature, the other light. One is rich, the other poor. One is harsh, the other gentle. One is forever youthful, the other old before his time.One is mortal.They share no bond of blood or sympathy, but they are twins nonetheless.They each live without ever knowing that they are brothers.They each die fighting the blind god.”

“The Evil Twin was either Tracey or Casey Reardon. I wasn't sure which one, and no one else seemed to either. All we knew for sure was that the twins were evil. Or, one of them was evil and the other just looked the same.”

“Stani walks in later, glaring at them both.“Bloody bastards. One minute punching each other, next minute reading poetry. What’s wrong with everyone this week?”Tom can tell that”

“That’s right boys, I made twins. Two babies, one shot,” he said with his chest puffed out.”