Yeah, you think? Whoa! Don't touch the pedal! [The van's pissed enough at him as it is; he doesn't need the thing breaking because she wore out the brake pads. He kicks the jukebox so the damn thing stops screeching out music, rounding out the van to the side right as she hops out.

Cigarette smoke blows out the door behind her, with an aura of real irritation. The whole no one gets her but me, you hear me! echoes in Nero's head.

For fuck's sake.]

Were you tryin' to leave? Last guy said he was, and fell right onto the roof. You can still see the imprint.