"And shampoo muffins! Star Wars! Bullfrog! Crickets and... cigarette muffins! Cough! Israeli-Palestinian conflict muffins! And a bits-of-glass muffin - ow! - and asbestos! Oh, God, asbestos! Like, 'I'm baking muffins ASBESTOS I can'! Get it? GET IT?! SWEET JEEBUS, YOU ARE NOT GETTING IT. WHAT ABOUT MONKEY MUFFIN? Oh, MISTER. AL JARREAU MUFFIN."

Twenty minutes. Yes, twenty minutes this woman had been going on about muffins. Every flavor possible. And, as shown by what she was talking about now, definitely some made-up flavors.

"Elephant muffin and pencil muffin!"

Sylar could be a very patient man.

"Newspaper!"

But this was just a little too much for him to handle.

"Fire muffin!"

"LOOK."

All at once, Tenna would have found herself with a hand to her throat, long fingers fitting nearly the entire distance around her neck and squeezing. Tenna automatically let out a wild shriek, eyes wide. "Okay! You don't like fire muffins! I can get on that! That would hurt!"

"SHUT UP," Sylar hissed through clenched teeth, pushing the girl back up against the wall. "Okay, first minute of this, I could sit through. But TWENTY MINUTES of your MINDLESS BABBLING..."

...Sylar was pretty intent on snapping her neck, yes.