“You have failed this city!”
“Not like that,” Oliver said, his chiseled jawline forming into a pout. “You have to inspire terror, you know? Make your voice into a weapon.”
“Your Arrow voice is basically just you with a cold.” He could hear Felicity’s grin even though the hood shrouding her face. “For the new few hours, I’m the vigilante, and I’ll say my catchphrase however I want. Now, Felicity, where’s he broadcasting from?” She drew the bow tighter and scowled.
“Uh.” Oliver stared at the screen. “Why I am getting this pop-up?”
His fiance groaned. “We’re all gonna die.”