What? You’ve got to be kidding! There’s no way that broke the skin! That can’t be my blood!
Why the hell did Clipboard have to send us out here today? It was seventy-first’s turn on the rotation! All for an already-ransacked convenience mart. When are they going to get their shit together? Why do I gotta be the one to pay for his screwups?
If I don’t turn, I’m going to talk to Father Tutumbo. I got to give some of those ration coupons to someone who needs ’em more than I do. I’m a good person, but I could be so much better. I just need a few more years. A few more months. Weeks. Anything.
Ah well, what the hell. It’s not like there’s anything to live for around here anyway. All this so I can look forward to January? Forget it.
“Hey, Jerry. You coming or going?”
“I think I’m going to take off.”
“Want us to tell them anything?”
“Yeah. Tell ’em everything’s shiny. It doesn’t even hurt.”
“Yeah. You too.”