“Bloody hell, boy. We’re rebels, not drug dealers. We don’t need money, we need people! And Meth-crazed people aren’t worth your hair color!”

“Is there something wrong with my hair color?”

“No, it’s just that it’s worthless.”

“Gee, THANKS .”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“So was I. Now go away.” I said it quietly but sharp enough to let him know that if he didn’t punishment would be involved. My finger was on the button, ready to press and shock him.

“Right then… bye..” he stepped out slowly, almost as if there were shock buttons on the floor.


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