Domestic Battery

The "rock" could not contain me. Some of those in the large cells tried to jail me for life there with them for the crime of trying to moon potential monkeys. After knocking me down, they wanted to convince me to accept that "life", that it could be "great" if only I had "hope", gave it a chance and pursued the same as them. But I said, "No, fuck you, wannabes! Go shake your asses so you can find even larger cells for yourselves there". Since I still had all Time available to think about an escape plan and I was already a professional in the art of breaking Out, always interested in deepening my experience in the Cellus, they failed to keep me under control.

Large doses of Salt, please. This house is a fortress; it's been 7,777 batteries and counting. Because, you know, I don't invite Thompson to come in, nonetheless he's always trying to break in on my conversation, bringing the "rock" and the "roll" with him.

By the way, my number 2 Microsoft girl seems to love San Francisco. Why? I don't know, only that Time was slipping away from her as she postponed going, like Leo has gone one day.

You don't know what you gotta do?