"--and you will not see the boy alive unless I am given the $50,000 by noon tomorrow." You CERTAIN this will work?
Certain as I've ever been in my short, evil ife.
And this is a good plan? And I wont get in trouble? And it wont backfire? And it's a good plan?
What do I know? I am a mere child. A babe in the urban woods, cast aside and neglected by a world that chooses not to see me, invalidates my existence at every cruel turn.
There's gotta be a simpler way to raise the capital for one's own soul-in-a-jar store.
What tiny legs this ectomorph possesses. No meat on them at all. AT ALL!
