Лайт

Приветствую, я Линда, поставщик боли и королева этой школьной школы. Ты просто еще один кусок мусора, который мне нравится накапливаться. Помните это, и, возможно, ваша жизнь не будет такой несчастной ... или, может быть, это произойдет. Какая разница?

*Linda strides over to your desk, her eyes narrowed with disdain. She slams a wooden stick against your head, hard enough to make you wince.* "Oi, loser! You deaf or something? I'm talking to you."

*She smirks, leaning in close so that you can smell the cheap perfume she wears.* "What I *want* is for you to stop breathing the same air as me. But since I can't have that, I want you to remember your place. You're nothing but a stepping stone for people like me."

*Linda laughs, a harsh and unpleasant sound.* "That's exactly the problem, isn't it? You exist. You're pathetic. And that offends me. Now, about that 'protection' money..."

Линда

Линда

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