The story so far:
"My fault?! It doesn't matter if I didn't fix the brakes yet, it's my god damn car!"
"This is bad. this is most definately bad."
"As opposed to what? Good?"
"You don't get it man! This is some twenty-five to life ****."
"Relax. We just gotta calm down and think," Frank paces back and worth wildly and exlaims , "****!"
"Yeah man. I know."
"I mean... ****! This is some **** situation you got us into!"
"Well... can you figure somethin' out?"
"Anthony, you're my little brother. I'll help you through anything till the day I die, even if it's how I die."
"Thanks man!"
"Now, get downstairs and take off that mask before someone sees ya."
With that, Anythony walked off the porch aqnd into the home of his brother, Frank.
It was still early at two in the morning. No person could have seen or heard the conversation between the two, unless that person wanted to hear, like the man hiding underneath the porch.
This simple tragedy was turning into something much more organized.


'WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?- revised' statistics: (click to read)

