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A Degenerate
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Oh my god, Paisley, shut up.

Pia almost said it. She almost turned and grabbed Paisley by the shoulders and shook her until she stopped acting like a complete twit. Sunshine and rainbows? Sunshine and rainbows? God, Pia hadn't even witnessed any friends die and it sure as hell wasn't sunshine and rainbows for her!

Maybe she was in shock still. Pia wanted to believe that, rather than believing that all sense of tact and self-preservation had abandoned Paisley after the first day here. They needed to win Sarah over, not make her think they were totally crazy.

"We're working together because we have a plan." Pia answered Sarah's question before Paisley could. She leveled her gaze right at Sarah. "And because we're friends. I told Paisley this and I'll tell you, Sarah - I'm not crazy, and I'm not stupid. I'm not going around shooting everything that moves. That's more than you can say for some people, and you know it."

You know who I'm talking about, Sarah. You know if she was here, you'd already be dead.

And you know how this works. How it's always worked. Nobody protests the NFL just because somebody got injured during a game.

"You know," she continued finally, "it's pretty damn stupid for you to go around trying to pick fights with the most dangerous people here."

She didn't look at Paisley, didn't look anywhere but Sarah's face. Things were winding tighter and tighter, like a coiled spring. Just a little more pressure before it popped.

"I don't wanna see you die because of a stupid reason like that, Sarah."
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I Played it Out · The Cigarette Holder Theatre
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