Like I said, get a drink with me more often, man, it’ll do you good; open you up to a side of life you didn’t know you needed. If your parents coddled you, I’ll get you back on track. Thing is, you’ve gotta meet me halfway.

We were so gullible: so much goodwill among neighbors for once that we really considered his offer of “protection” as genuine. Come to find out, paying for his “services” meant another week without his boys rampaging us.

And now, I wish I were gone, despite the progress. One moment, we had order and boring routines, the next…we’re slaughtering each other and risking life and limb to get irradiated Fancy Lads from the nearest dumpster.