I get out of the car.
There are people shouting somewhere very far away, and horns honking. They sound almost the same. Someone gets up off the pavement in front of me, nursing his leg. He doesn’t look so tough now, does he? Like it’s just dawned on him that they lost Oka years ago. Where did all your friends go, fucker? Where’s Lasagna when you need him?
Okay, you want to wail about oppression? I’ll show you oppression, you greasy Indian brat. I’m going to teach you a lesson you won’t ever forget.
My muscles are knotted so tightly I wonder why my own ligaments haven’t been torn out at the roots. I’m dimly aware that this is more or less normal for me now.
But I know that I’ll feel better soon.