He fell to his knees, slobber and blood running from his nose
to the slippery sleeves of his letter jacket. As he started to
rise, she swung the umbrella like a golf club, smacking him
on the chin. Kip ran from the arcade as tears began to fall
down his cheek. She chased him out the door, her hot pink
umbrella rampage not even close to being finished.

Impressed with Pauline’s umbrella swinging prowess, the patrons of Charlie’s arcade clapped and cheered when she returned from her bout with the brute.

When the excitement died down, Pax walked over to them. “Hey, it’s Friday night. You two want to get high?” He lit another cigarette with a Zippo lighter.

“Now?” Mario asked.

“Sure, it’s Friday night. We don’t got school tomorrow, and I snagged some gnarly weed. It’s in the Camaro.’” Pax replied.

“Pauline, you want to?” Mario asked, looking over at her.

“I thought we’d just go back to my place, Mario. I’m a little tired,” she said.