There were no problems until red hair and impressive factory-stock equipment were thrown into the mix. At that point, I really couldn't be held responsible for what ensued. I was the exemplar of good behavior, nigh unto altar boy-like piety, under some extreme externally applied stress prior to that as well (which you should remember since it cost you $20 each time). Yet I remained calm, controlled, and (dare I say it?) somewhat aloof throughout the evening.
Until I snapped, of course.
Until I snapped, of course.