Marla. The big tourist.

The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant. 

Years before, you wouldn’t have picked my brother Yancy and I for heroes. No chance. We were never star athletes. Never at the head of the class.But we could hold our own in a fight. And it turned out we had a unique skill: We were drift compatible.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s go to your house, you know. Makes perfect sense. Let’s, uh… Let’s completly screw up yur house so you never wanna spend another night in it. Sure. You know, why not? Yeah, and how’s about I send over my psycho-bitch wife to, uh, you know, break your balls and threaten you? God, that would be hiarious, you know.

Kill white people and get paid for it? What’s not to like?

Ernest Hemingway once wrote, “The world is a fine place and worth fighting for.” I agree with the second part..

It was the natural order of things… all things must die.