Out of the frying pan and into the fire, more like. Least in Columbia you can fight your way out. Over there, we're sittin' ducks, lab rats. I don't like it.
[ you don't like anything, Booker B< ] I suppose it... is a little off-putting, but we don't really have much of a choice, do we? I would rather go of my own free will than be told.
Much as I'd like to be out of that insanity, nobody tells me where to go, so kindly pardon me if I ain't keen on rollin' over and takin' it. ... Only thing I'm happy about is that you'll be outta Comstock's reach. For now.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject