The following are various interactions between a headphoned Allison and several friends in desperate need of Ritalin on the bus trip back from Milbank. All involve the lifting of one earpiece by any friend and that friend's attempt at an impression of James Earl Jones. Dude, I hate my friends.

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"Ok."

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"You too?"

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"I must be a very murderable person."

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"Wow, no one's ever said that to me before."

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"If you guys aren't careful, this just might get annoying."

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"You bastards."

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"Dude...I'm losing the vocals."
"Oh, sorry." [lifts other earpiece] "Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
"Dammit, now the percussion's gone."

"Mookie...I'm going to kill you."
At this point I turned around, pulled Bob's shoe (he was the closest perpetrator) off his foot, and threw it in the front of the bus.

"Hey. You're violent. You made my shoe go away."
Then he punched me really hard in the ribs. Fortunately, he was clutching my seat with his left hand, so he got a Converse All-Star to the knuckles.

"Ow. Fu--wait, I promised myself I wouldn't swear."
"Fuck you, too."
"I didn't even do anything."
"You hit me really hard."
"You stole my shoe."
"You threatened to kill me. Four times."
"You need killing."
"...Yeah, yeah, that's true. So we're even?"
"Yes, but I'm still going to kill you."
"But of course."