Note: read “It’s Going To Get Worse Before It Gets Sweater” first.
I walk through the alleyways of Korkeaopolis with Electra, holding a shopping bag full of fluffy toys with one hand.
“You smell anything?”
scratch scratch
“Ewectwa am pikkin up a hintsie of fwuffy, yuh.”
Pretty handy, having Electra tag along. No one can sniff out a fluffy like another fluffy, huh?
Fluffies have one thing over us humans, and that’s a phenomenal sense of smell.
I’m surprised I never thought of this back when I abused fluffies.
Now that I think about it, I’m glad that Jaws never thought of that.
But he’s Jaws.
He wouldn’t keep a fluffy around for long, no matter how useful that fluffy may be.
In the abuser community, sadism often trumps practicality.
It’s been a few days since the press conference, the day the truth about me was revealed.
I’m still not used to people calling me by my real name. But revealing the truth just made me more popular around here.
It’s crazy how things always seem to work out for the best in this city.
At the very least, I thought Starbucks was gonna fire me.
Of course, I’m still playing the game, but for how long, I do not know.
I remember what Chaos said. My final challenge is approaching.
I asked him for some way of knowing how much time there is left until that challenge.
He gave me an hourglass.
The glass in the top half was opaque.
Shoulda seen that coming.
So yeah, not very helpful.
But Jaws’ deadline has come and gone, and I haven’t heard from him yet.
It’s the calm before the storm, I’m well aware.
See, part of me, some naive, optimistic part that has somehow survived all the shit piled on it, that part of me briefly hoped that Jaws has given up and gone home.
I wouldn’t mind if he settled for egging my house in Detroit or something. It would be petty as fuck, but absolutely harmless.
I mean, anyone with an ounce of rationality can see that Jaws has lost, right?
His blackmail threat has been rendered powerless, and this city is crawling with superheroes.
And he doesn’t know that the superheroes are taking a hands-off approach on this one at my request, so a rational man in that position would see that he can’t make a move against me without being swarmed by superheroes.
How does that old song go? Know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em?
But then there’s another part of me, the part of my mind where I buried everything Jaws taught me.
The part of me that remembers everything he did to fluffies. If you think what I did was fucked up…
That part of me knows damn well that Jaws is not a rational man.
He’s a psychopath.
He’ll attack me, even if we’re surrounded by witnesses.
He’ll attack me, even if we’re surrounded by the ChaotiX.
He’ll attack me, even if Korkea himself stands between us and dares him to take a swing.
I know there’s no point in that. When we met at Oracle Park, Korkea told me he’d let me go without another word if I took a swing at him, to prove that I wasn’t scared of him. He promised that he wouldn’t hit back.
You can’t blame me for not doing it, can you? I’d just end up breaking my hand on his face.
But Jaws won’t care. He won’t care if Korkea kills him, as long as Jaws can kill me first.
He’ll consider dragging me down to Hell with him to be a suitable consolation prize.
So I’m trying to stay on guard.
Especially with Electra by my side.
If I have to, I’ll buy time for her to escape.
She’ll be fine without me. We were always going to part ways when the game ends, and it’s not like she’ll have to go back to living on the streets.
I think I can trust Korkea to make sure she’ll be taken care of, if something happens to me. He won’t leave her out in the cold.
Whatever happens to me…
Electra must survive.
I might as well march myself through the door of death if she doesn’t survive.
She wouldn’t even be in danger if I hadn’t adopted her.
That means it’s my fault if Jaws kills her, or does something worse to her.
But if either of us deserves to be killed by Jaws, it’s me.
Remember what I said.
He won’t drag me down with him.
I’ll drag him down with me.
Because this will end on my terms, not his.
I just hope that Electra remembers me when I’m gone.
On the bright side, at least my gravestone won’t say “HERE LIES UGLY SWEATER GUY”.
It’ll probably have a sweater on it instead of a cross, though.
They are kind of the same shape…
As we reach an intersection of alleyways, passing a dumpster, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
And I see something move out of the corner of my eye.
“Wha–”
SLASH
“AURGH!!!”
It takes me a second to realize what just happened.
I look down, seeing a large wound on my side, a big tear in the sweater, and a big red stain, getting bigger.
I see the shopping bag on the ground, the stuffed toys in it stained by my blood too.
And I see Jaws, who clearly just sprang out from behind that dumpster and cut me.
He’s grinning and holding the bloody knife, and I’ve never seen such an alive look in his eyes.
He’s at the end of his rope, I can tell.
“Hiya, best buddy. So, I saw your little broadcast. You know what I’ve gotta do, don’t you?”
But he sounds the same as he usually does. That nauseating fake-chipper voice, that doesn’t sound like it should be coming out of a face that monstrous.
I have seen his mother gag after kissing him on the cheek.
“Jaws. Are you seriously going to kill me? I knew it, I knew you didn’t just kill fluffies.”
Jaws uses the knife as a makeshift mirror, picking some corn out of his teeth. Believe me, he barely knows a thing about dental hygiene.
“I didn’t wanna do it this way, but now it’s the only way I can be sure you won’t tell fucking Korkea anything about me. And that’s all your fault, Jeffy boy. I wanted to do this the nice way. You coulda just turned that shitrat into a foal factory, you coulda paid me off and walked away alive, and you’d still keep some spending money. We both could have walked away happy, but you wouldn’t play ball. You think a shitrat is more important than our years of friendship? I taught you so much, and that’s how I’m repaid? You’ve hurt me deeply, Jeffy. So it’s only fair that I hurt you. And if you won’t get a fucking clue, I’ll be taking that shitrat off your hands. You don’t have the balls to make some motherfuckin’ money off it, but I can’t just leave that cash on the table.”
I scowl at him, clutching the bleeding wound on my side, willing myself to stay standing.
“You stay the fuck away from Electra! I’m not scared of you anymore, Jaws! You act like you’re so tough because you’ve killed a lot of fluffies, but I’ve spent the last month of my life dealing with forces that could squash you like a fucking cockroach! You are nothing compared to the heroes living in this city, and even less compared to Chaos! You’re just another bully with a swollen ego, like so many abusers! If you wanna go, then LET’S FUCKING GO!!!”
Jaws just laughs mockingly.
“Ooh, so you do have a pair. You’ve been hanging out with fucking Korkea too much, Jeffy boy. He can ignore a knife to the gut, but you can’t. You think you’re a hero now, just because you shared your sob story with everyone? You’re not a hero. You never will be. You’re just like me, and you might have fooled all of the gibbering, hugboxing retards in this shithole, you might be fooling yourself, but you can’t fool me. I know you, Jeffy. I haven’t forgotten all the fun we had together. Fuck me for wanting to keep the fun going, right? I tell ya, Jeffy boy… I’m gonna miss ya.”
He points the knife at me.
“How about I carve a biiiiiiiiiig X in an octagon on your chest? You wanna be like Korkea and his hugboxing freaks, Jeffy?”
Electra waddles over to Jaws, glaring up at him.
“Jeff wud wah-fuw be wike mistah Caw den wike yu!”
I can’t say she’s wrong.
“Maybe I’ll never be a hero… but I don’t have to be a villain either. Korkea told me so himself. No matter what circumstances you’re in, you always have a choice. Come on, Jaws, make the right choice, for once in your life.”
“You know, I’ve always believed in freedom of choice. That’s why I gave you a choice. It’s you who made the wrong choice, Jeffy. Why? Has Korkea filled your head with his lies? Did he give you that bullshit about how shitrats are people too? They’re biotoys. They’re just things. Things created by humans, to be used by humans as we please.”
Electra gives Jaws a look which clearly communicates that she would give him the finger if she could.
“…Fuk yu tuu, budee.”
I feel my heart well up with pride, and it fills me with strength.
“Attagirl, Electra. Yeah, maybe Korkea’s rubbing off on me a bit. Jaws, lemme tell ya, if you spent some time around fluffies without hurting them, you’d see that they aren’t so bad. You know you can’t get away with what you’re planning here. Korkea won’t let you.”
Jaws laughs again.
“Oh? So where is Korkea? I don’t see him flying in to save you two.”
With his free hand, he grabs Electra by the scruff of her neck.
“Bad upsies!”
“Forget the stupid name Jeffy gave you, shitrat. Your new name is Meal Ticket. You won’t be needing those legs anymore, either.”
And then I snap, staggering over to Jaws.
“YOU LET ELECTRA GO RIGHT N–”
SHUNK
“–OW!!!”
But Jaws stabs me in the gut.
“It’s my shitrat now, Jeffy. In exchange, you can keep the knife. This was great, but I gotta get moving before any ChaotiX hugboxing freaks show up. And I gotta find a hacksaw and a horny stallion with good colors, too. Bye, Jeffy boy. Tell Satan I said hi.”
“WUT?!? Jeff, du sumfin!”
WHUMP
I fall to the ground, bleeding heavily, my vision fading.
“I… can’t… I’m… sorry…”
“Jeff! JEFF! DADDEH!!!”
“E… lec… tra…”
As I struggle to keep my eyes open, I see Jaws walk away, holding Electra as she futilely tries to break free, Jaws’ sick laughter ringing in my ears…
And…
I see something on the wall.
Graffiti.
Of a purple and yellow jester.
I glance at my bloody sleeve, seeing the number 9999 on it.
I don’t remember earning that many points.
I know what I need to do.
She must survive.
As my vision fades, I manage to force out a few more words, the tears flowing freely.
“Chaos… I don’t care… if it costs all of my points… I don’t even care… if it costs my life…”
Everything goes dark.
“Please… save her…”
Jaws carries his helpless captive to his car, paying no attention to the disgusted looks he’s getting from passersby or the parking ticket on the windshield as he pops the trunk open.
Maybe he should take a close look at that ticket.
It’s rainbow-colored.
That’s why people aren’t doing anything more than watching.
They know that someone’s got this covered.
Jaw pulls a ball gag out, swiftly plopping it in Electra’s mouth and dropping her in the trunk.
“If you shit in there, I’ll glue your fucking anus shut.”
He slams the trunk door down, walking over to the driver side door and getting in.
“Y’know, this city ain’t so bad after all. I thought there’d be fucking superheroes all over the goddamn place, but I haven’t seen any of those freaks yet.”
And as he glances at the rear view mirror, he sees Chaos glaring at him in the backseat, in milkman form, Electra curled up in his lap, the ball gag gone.
Electra is glaring at Jaws too.
“Hewwo, mummahfukkah.”
Ah, Jeff may have been a bit of a bad influence.
Electra’s hardly the first patient of the potty mouth fluffy epidemic.
Jaws jumps in fright.
“Who the fuck are you?!? How’d you get in my car?!?”
Chaos strokes Electra as he speaks up in his usual cheerful, flamboyant voice, but something in his words betrays his unrelenting fury.
“Hi there, boyo. I’m Chaos, that’s how I got in. And the only reason you haven’t seen the ChaotiX around town is because I have dibs on you.”
“Ch-Ch-Chaos?!? You mean–”
“I mean that Ch-Ch-Chaos, yes. You know, I gave you the same power I give everyone when they’re born: the power to make choices. And you, my shark-faced friend, have just made a very bad choice. Welcome to Deep Shit City, population you. So, let me ask you a question, boyo…”
Suddenly, Chaos is sitting in the passenger seat, Electra is gone, and Chaos places a hand on Jaws’ shoulder.
“Would you like to play a game with me?”
I open my eyes, my vision blurry.
“ELECTRA!!! What–”
Then I hear an unpleasantly familiar voice.
“Calm down, Jeff. She’s alright, dude.”
But for once, I’m actually happy to hear that voice.
My vision clears, and I find myself lying on a bed in a room that looks a bit like a sci-fi hospital.
As I sit up straight, I see Korkea standing by the bed, and Electra, fast asleep in a chair next to the bed, and thankfully unharmed.
My jeans are hanging over the back of the chair, and it looks like they’ve been laundered. My sneakers are on the floor under the chair, it looks like they’ve been cleaned too.
And the shopping bag full of stuffed toys is next to the chair, the bag and the toys all spotlessly clean.
Then, as the covers fall down, I realize that I’m not wearing the sweater. The T-shirt I was wearing under it has been replaced. Presumably, that was torn as well.
The shirt I’m wearing now is black, and has a print of a silhouette of Korkea wreathed in golden flames on it.
Goddamnit, Korkea!
“Where is it? Where’d the sweater go?”
Korkea smirks at me.
“Don’t you want to know where you are?”
I pull the shirt up for a moment, seeing a suspicious absence of knife wounds on my body. And a relieving absence of knife.
“I’ve got so many questions right now. How am I not dead? How was Electra saved? What the actual fuck happened? And yeah, where are we? Oh God, I’m not in Hell, am I? Did you kick Satan’s ass and steal his job?”
Korkea shakes his head, still smirking.
“No, you’re not in Hell, and I haven’t kicked Satan’s ass. Not yet, at any rate. You’re in the School’s medbay, Jeff. You weren’t injured enough to warrant a healing vat, so I healed your injuries myself and told the team to let you sleep it off. Don’t worry, we left your underwear on. Didn’t want anyone getting a peek at your Mean Bean Machine. Nice fluffy print boxers, though, I’ve got a pair like that too.”
He points at the window, and I see that it’s dark outside.
“You’ve been out all day, it’s about 2 AM. Electra was waiting for you to wake up, but then she fell asleep.”
And I notice a box of V For Victory protein bars on the nightstand, next to my phone, wallet, and everything else in my pockets, like the brass knuckles I was planning to use on Jaws.
I give Korkea a look, and he nods.
“I figured you might need a snack when you woke up.”
“Thanks, I guess. So what happened after I… after Jaws… after…”
“Chaos brought you and Electra to the School. There’s no spell that can keep him out of a building. Electra was fine, unlike you, but I’ve copied Tommy’s healing hands, and I can give it a lot more juice than he can.”
“So that’s Tommy’s power?”
“That, and true sight. He can always see what’s really there, and he can see if something isn’t really there too.”
“So, do you know what happened?”
“All Chaos told us was that Jaws had made his move, and was gonna regret it, but I’ve made another educated guess. Once you were both safe, Chaos took the sweater off you and left. He said he was gonna let Jaws cool off for a while before he deals with him.”
“So Jaws didn’t…”
“He didn’t get a chance to do anything except put a ball gag on her. She was a bit shaken up, but she’ll pull through.”
“Good. If something had happened to her… I don’t know what I’d do.”
I unwrap one of the protein bars, selecting a chocolate one.
“I was kinda expecting these to all be raspberry. I hate raspberry.”
As I wolf the protein bar down, Korkea just won’t stop smirking at me.
“You wanna know something? So do I. Looks like we’ve got a lot in common, Jeff.”
gulp
“We’re still not friends, Korkea. I’m not ungrateful, but… it’s complicated.”
“Eh, give it time. Of course, you’ll probably be leaving town soon, so if you never wanna see me again, I guess I’ll honor that–”
“Hold on. Are you saying that…”
Korkea pats me on the shoulder, nodding.
“You’re free to go, Chaos said. He paid for one more week at the hotel on your behalf, so whatever you’re gonna do next, you’ve got some time to get everything ready.”
I… I was expecting more. A fanfare, confetti, something.
“That’s it? The game’s over? I gotta be honest, it feels…”
“Anticlimactic?”
“Yeah, kinda.”
“Heh. Trust me, I’ve been there too. You’re already missing it, aren’t you?”
A little bit, yeah.
“…I don’t know. So, uh, I can’t believe I’m only asking this now, but… what’s gonna happen to Jaws?”
Korkea twiddles his fingers, smiling mischievously.
“Well, let’s just say that… Chaos may have found someone else to play the game with.”
On top of Mount Everest, Jaws finds himself wearing the same ugly sweater that Jeff was wearing.
Isn’t this a familiar scene?
The sweater is still torn by the knife wounds, and still stained with Jeff’s blood, which has dried by now.
The number 0 is on the right sleeve.
And it’s already feeling rather itchy.
Naturally, Jaws isn’t alone.
Chaos is here, in jester form, with a purple and yellow scarf and a mug of hot chocolate, a painted frown on his porcelain face.
He takes a sip, completely ignoring the logistics of drinking with a mask on.
Then he speaks up, his cheerful, flamboyant voice having an unusually harsh tinge.
“Alright, Shark Tale, listen up. Now that you’ve had some time to, ha, cool off, I’m gonna lay down the rules of the game we’ll be playing. I didn’t do that for Jeff, but it would be boring if I played the exact same game with you.”
Jaws angrily tries to remove the sweater, but is quickly reminded that the harder he tries, the tighter it gets.
“I told you, I don’t want to play any fucking games with you!”
Chaos chuckles sinisterly.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna play, boyo? You’ve made a lotta bad choices lately, you reeeaaally wanna make another one? You sure you don’t feel the need to make some changes? Because you’re running out of time. Playing this game with me is your last chance for redemption. If you reject it, you’re not going to like what happens next, I can assure you.”
“I won’t let you make me your bitch like Jeff did! Now get this fucking sweater off me, and let me get off this fucking mountain! It’s too damn cold up here!”
“Is that truly the Way you’ve chosen? Personally, I think you’d be better off playing the game. There’s worse things that could happen to you. Jeff hated the game at first, but I think he’s secretly going to miss it.”
Jaws sneers dismissively.
“Because he’s a pussy! He’s weak! Living in Korkeaopolis made him go soft! He might as well join up with that freak Korkea, and become his personal dicksucker!”
Chaos suddenly assumes his horrifying form, speaking up in a horridly echoing voice devoid of cheerfulness or flamboyance.
"̶Y̷o̶u̸ ̵t̸h̴i̴n̸k̷ ̸m̵y̵ ̸H̷a̶r̸b̷i̶n̶g̷e̷r̴ ̴i̸s̵ ̷a̴ ̵f̷r̷e̴a̵k̵?̵ ̶L̷o̵o̷k̷ ̷a̵t̴ ̷m̷e̶,̴ ̴y̸o̴u̶ ̸i̸n̶s̷i̵g̶n̵i̴f̴i̶c̴a̵n̴t̴ ̵l̵i̵t̶t̴l̷e̴ ̸f̷o̷o̷l̸.̶ ̶S̴h̴a̷l̵l̴ ̶I̸ ̷s̵h̷o̴w̷ ̶y̴o̵u̵ ̷h̶o̶w̴ ̵m̷u̷c̵h̶ ̶o̴f̷ ̵a̷ ̸f̴r̴e̶a̶k̸ ̷I̵ ̵c̸a̴n̷ ̵b̸e̵?̸ ̴S̷h̶a̷l̶l̶ ̶I̴ ̴b̶a̸n̴i̴s̵h̸ ̴y̸o̸u̸ ̶t̷o̷ ̴t̵h̸e̶ ̸d̴e̶e̶p̷e̷s̷t̴ ̸d̷e̶p̵t̶h̸s̵ ̶o̸f̶ ̴m̷y̷ ̶d̴o̸m̸a̶i̷n̶,̶ ̷a̶n̶d̴ ̸l̶e̸a̵v̶e̵ ̸y̶o̶u̷ ̵t̷h̸e̴r̸e̵ ̵u̵n̷t̵i̴l̸ ̸y̵o̵u̸r̷ ̴a̸l̶r̴e̶a̷d̴y̵ ̷d̷i̸s̶e̸a̴s̷e̵d̴ ̷m̸i̴n̶d̸ ̶h̴a̶s̷ ̵b̴e̸e̴n̵ ̵s̶h̵a̶t̷t̶e̵r̶e̴d̵ ̵b̶e̷y̸o̵n̶d̶ ̶r̴e̶p̶a̵i̵r̵?̶ ̸W̵o̴u̷l̶d̸ ̸y̴o̸u̴ ̷p̶r̶e̴f̵e̵r̸ ̸t̸h̷a̶t̶ ̴i̴n̵s̷t̴e̷a̴d̴?̴"̷
As Jaws freezes up in absolute terror, Chaos reverts to his scarf-wearing jester form, and continues in his usual cheerful, flamboyant voice.
“You’re at the Point of No Return, boyo. Do you want to play the game or not? It’s up to you. I’m not gonna make you play the game if you really don’t wanna. But you might want to consider the implications.”
Jaws meekly stutters a reply, fighting the urge to soil his pants, even though it would be nice and warm.
“J-j-just let me g-get out of here, and p-p-please, leave me alone…”
Chaos sighs, and as he reluctantly points, a door appears.
“If you insist, then. I thought that we could have some fun together, but clearly, you don’t agree. Walk through that door, and you won’t have to play the game, or wear the sweater, or be on this mountain, and you’ll never see me again. But I seriously recommend that you think about this before you make a-- oh.”
Jaws has already thrown the door open and sprinted through it.
And a few seconds too late, he’s learned what’s on the other side of the door.
You remember, yes?
All he leaves behind is a trail of footprints in the snow.
Perhaps Jaws should have paid closer attention to what Chaos was saying.
Or rather, what Chaos wasn’t saying.
Chaos sticks his head over the threshold, looking down, and he waits, hearing Jaws’ screams growing fainter.
It takes a whole minute before Chaos finally hears a distant, echoing whump from below, and Jaws is silenced.
“Ooh. He’s not walking away from that. Welp, there was a man who strongly believed in freedom of choice.”
Chaos withdraws his head, and the door closes itself and vanishes.
“It’s a shame that he didn’t believe in redemption, though.”
BRUCE HUMPHRIES? ALSO KNOWN AS JAWS?
“What the-- goddamnit, that fucking jester just murdered me!”
TECHNICALLY, IT WAS SUICIDE. REALLY, YOU SHOULD HAVE PLAYED THE GAME. THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN THE BETTER CHOICE IN THE LONG RUN. THIS MEETING WOULD NOT BE TAKING PLACE NOW HAD YOU MERELY SWALLOWED YOUR PRIDE.
“Suicide?!? He didn’t tell me that going through that door would kill me!”
MY CHAOTIC COLLEAGUE DIDN’T SAY THAT IT WOULD NOT KILL YOU, EITHER. HE NEVER ACTUALLY SAID THAT YOU WOULD GO HOME IF YOU WENT THROUGH THE DOOR, OR THAT YOU WOULD STILL BE ALIVE. IT WAS YOUR OWN HASTE THAT BROUGHT ABOUT YOUR END. ONLY WITH THE CLARITY OF THOUGHT THAT DEATH BRINGS DO YOU SEE YOUR FOLLY. JEFF ROBINSON IS A SMARTER MAN THAN YOU BY FAR. SO TELL ME, WHY DID YOU NOT JUST LEAVE MR. ROBINSON ALONE?
“I couldn’t have him snitching on me to Korkea… which… er…”
WHICH IS THE LEAST OF YOUR CONCERNS NOW, MR. HUMPHRIES. BUT TRY TO LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE.
“What fucking bright side?”
WHERE YOU’RE GOING, IT’S A LOT WARMER THAN MOUNT EVEREST. SO YOU WON’T NEED TO BRING THAT HIDEOUS SWEATER.
“…Oh. Ffffffffffuck. It’s… it’s not too late to change my mind about playing that game, is it?”
FAR, FAR TOO LATE, I’M AFRAID. YOU WERE OFFERED A LAST CHANCE. YOU WERE GIVEN FAIR WARNING. YOU WERE SHOWN MORE MERCY THAN YOU DESERVE. AND YOU REJECTED ALL OF IT. WHAT HAPPENS NEXT, MR. HUMPHRIES, IS WHAT YOU CHOSE. YOU DID NOT HAVE TO DIE TODAY. WE COULD HAVE DONE THIS THE NICE WAY. BUT IT SEEMS THAT YOU WOULD RATHER SUFFER IN THE TENTH CIRCLE OF HELL THAN MAKE AMENDS.
“…There’s a tenth circle of Hell?”
YES. FULL OF PEOPLE JUST LIKE YOU. PERHAPS YOU THINK THAT YOU ARE SPECIAL, MR. HUMPHRIES. BUT SOON, YOU WILL SEE EXACTLY HOW SPECIAL YOU AREN’T.
“Y’know, I was kinda hoping that Satan would offer me a job.”
YOU? AND WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO OFFER THE FORCES OF HELL?
“…I’m good at killing shitrats?”
THEY WOULD LAUGH YOU OUT OF THE ROOM FOR THAT. THEY DON’T TURN FLUFFY ABUSERS INTO DEMONS ANYMORE, YOU SHOULD KNOW. THEY’VE FOUND THE RESULTS TO BE VERY… DISAPPOINTING. NOW, ENOUGH STALLING. NONE CAN STALL ME FOREVER. LET US BE OFF.
“Wait, I’ve got one more question.”
GO AHEAD AND ASK.
“Am I gonna meet James Oldman Down There? Because I’ve always been a fan…”
NO. THE JAMES OLDMAN YOU ADMIRE NO LONGER EXISTS. BUT YOU ARE NOT MUCH BETTER THAN HIM.
“Oh.”
YES. OH.