So, Angel?" I said, looking over at her. She was gliding through the night, her eight-foot wings looking like a dove's. "Have you picked up anything from Anne, about anything? Anything off?"Not really." Angel thought. "From what I can tell, she does work for the FBI. She does care about us and wants us to be happy. She thinks the boys are slobs. I'm ," Iggy said irritably. "How am I supposed to make everything all tidy?"Yeah, because you're so handicapped," I said sarcastically. "Like- you can't build bombs or cook or win at Monopoly. You can't tell us apart by the feel of our skin or feathers.
"So, Angel?" I asked, observing her glide through the night with her dove-like wings. I inquired if she had learned anything from Anne regarding any unusual activities. Angel replied that her observations suggest Anne works for the FBI, cares about us, and wants us to be happy. She also thinks the boys are messy, and Iggy is frustrated about keeping things tidy.
I sarcastically remarked on Iggy's perceived limitations, joking that he can't build bombs, cook, or win at Monopoly. I pointed out the differences between us, implying that despite our differences, we are trying to understand our situation and each other better."
