The good people, they always die. And the bad people do, too. But the weak people, the people like me… we have inherited the Earth.
My people have guns. Yours don’t. They may be aiming rifles at you right now. Eyes at the scopes. Fingers on the trigger. Boom. It’s gonna happen any second now unless you get the hell out of here and you don’t ever come back. You keep choosing this life, you will die.