I stood there on the pavement alone. The night was colder than I expected but I decided I'd rather hurry to find my house than find a jacket from my suitcase so I walked up the hill towards the trees. The moon glowed brightly above me and as I entered the dark forest I didn't know whether to feel excited or frightened. I hoped I was in the right place. After a few minutes of wandering aimlessly, I found a path. Realising how ironic it was I followed it cautiously. It wasn't long until I couldn't see anything beyond trees and I heard fearsome growling all around me. I stayed still, waiting for them to show themselves.
After a few moments I saw a pair of amber eyes fixed on me in the darkness. I guessed that this wolf was the Alpha so I knelt down and held out my hand for him to smell. The male wolf padded slowly towards me with a low growl in his throat. He stared at me when he was within touching distance, to see if I was going to make a sudden movement. When I slowly held my hand out further for him to sniff, he came closer and I could feel his cold nose against the palm of my hand. He took in my scent for what seemed like hours but was really only seconds. He moved a step away and lowered his head slightly. His pack moved in towards me but they were off-guard and trusted me. I breathed a sigh of relief. I sat there on the ground for a long time so they could get used to my scent and eventually I managed to stroke the Alpha.
I knew then that they wouldn't attack me so I stood up slowly and carried on through the woods, the wolves followed me for a short while and then the Alpha caught the scent of a smaller animal and they bounded off to hunt. After about another ten minutes I saw a small house in the distance and ran towards it, thankful that I'd found it. The path led straight to it but the wolves would probably cause any unwelcome guests to turn back.
The door was unlocked so I checked for intruders but there was no one there. The cottage was furnished with the basics – a bed, dining table, sofa, and fully functional kitchen and bathroom with hot water. It was relatively small: a small en-suite bathroom, connected to my bedroom, a living room that doubled up as a dining room and another room for the kitchen. Four rooms in total. However, my bedroom also led to a garage attached to the side of the cottage. It too was only small but contained my beautiful new bike. Next to it was a padlock so that no one would steal it if I left it unattended.
I searched the rest of the house and found the keys on the dining table – I locked the front door – and an Arai RX-7 GP helmet in a colour called Randy Red, some Sidi Vertigo Corsa motorbike boots in black and red and a matching black and red leather jacket and trousers in a wardrobe in the bedroom. I stood there in awe with my mouth open for ages, expecting them to disappear if I blinked or looked away.
I turned away eventually though, because after the stress of the day I was incredibly tired, it was hard to believe that only a few hours before I'd still been in Japan. I couldn't sleep yet, there were things that I wanted to do before I forgot. I took out my large pad of stick-its and walked into the cold garage after wrapping myself in a warm dressing gown. I sat on the concrete floor as hours passed without me noticing. I was dedicating each part of the garage wall to a particular person and I wanted to write notes on Falcone, the Chechen, Maroni and Gamble before I couldn't remember the day's events clearly.
It took me ages to write all my assumptions about them and their reactions to things that had happened and when I finally put my pen and sticky pad down I hadn't realised how tired I was. The sky was becoming lighter outside and the first morning-birds were beginning to chirp. I set an alarm on my new mobile phone and then got changed into some overly revealing pyjamas that my mom had bought me (she threw all my other pyjamas out, insisting that if they weren't sexy they were pointless) and climbed into bed. I instantly fell into a dream-filled sleep and didn't wake up until my irritating alarm rung.
Beep. Beep. BEEP.
I groaned and rolled over onto my side to turn off the alarm. I lay in bed for a while, going over everything in my mind from the previous night. I thought I'd made a good impression, but maybe I should have waited for a few days before going back. It was too late to cancel now though, I didn't have the guy's number and if I failed to show up it would look awful.
I stepped out of bed and was instantly surrounded by the icy morning air that lingered in the room. Sighing, turned the radiators on and jumped into the shower, remaining in there until I was sure the house would have warmed up slightly. I shampooed my hair twice to make sure the scent would stick to my hair then conditioned it and turned the water off. I quickly grabbed a towel to wrap around myself and padded back into my bedroom to dry my hair after treating it with God knows how many serums.
I blasted it with my hair dryer and curled it to make it neater. I shouldn't have really bothered making the effort since I had decided to spend the afternoon riding around Gotham on my motorbike to learn my way around but it was a force of habit. I selected an incredibly short pair of shorts (the only clothes I had were promiscuous thanks to my mother) and a long, baggy casual t-shirt with a scoop-neckline. I added some bangles and a long necklace to the look then pulled my protective leather trousers and jacket over the top.
I walked into the garage and glanced around at the walls to remind myself of everything I had deduced last night. Luckily, the tailpiece at the back was hollow and could be removed to fit another person at the back but I decided to keep my heels inside instead. I was outside before I remembered I needed the padlock for my bike and my house keys. I grabbed both, putting them in a zip-pocket in my jacket.
The wolves had gathered around curiously, the Alpha fixing me with a stare. I knelt down again and held out my hand. He was much quicker and less cautious with approaching me this time but still took in my scent warily. Once he had I stroked behind his ear again and he bounded off with his pack closely following. I smiled to myself, thinking of my mom and dad as I climbed onto the bike that was like a monster in comparison to my height. I pulled my helmet carefully over my hair and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, purring as I tested the throttle whilst holding the brake down.
I let go of the brake and pulled the throttle back gently. The bike zoomed off so quickly that I only just managed to miss hitting a tree. I took one hand off the handlebar to pull the visor down on my helmet. It was only seconds before I was out of the forest and my stomach did a back flip as instead of following the path down the hill the bike became airborne. It happened as though in slow-motion so I landed it fairly easily and turned onto the road.
I spent a while driving in circles trying to form a mental map in my head. Gotham seemed to be a cluster of islands so I only went around the three main ones. A place called 'Wayne Towers' was at the centre of the city. I discovered that the underground tunnel I went to last night was connected Midtown and Downtown. It connected to a place called "The Narrows" which was apparently an extension of Arkham Asylum – a mental institution – so it was no wonder the taxi driver wasn't keen to take me down there.
I pulled up outside a huge library and walked inside, remembering to padlock my bike, and checked out the archives of newspapers. According to the newspapers, fires in the Narrows were common due to an Arkham inmate that wanted to rid nearby buildings of demons. I was relieved that my home didn't reside there. It wasn't long until I found what I was looking for – large pictures of the mobsters I had met last night. I wanted them to pin up with the notes in my garage. Taking out the pages I needed, I slipped them into an inside-pocket of my leather jacket without anyone noticing and left.
When I got outside, there was a group of young teenage boys hovering around my bike and muttering excitedly. I walked over and unlocked the padlock.
"Nice, isn't it?" I said, putting my helmet back on.
"Is this yours? You're a girl!" One of the boys that looked like he might be the leader said mockingly.
"So?"
"That's really cool." Another boy said, timidly. "Come on guys, let's go."
They walked away as I fired up my engine and sped away, the speed relating to my nervousness. There wasn't long left until I had to go and meet him – the sky was already turning black. Gotham was much larger than I'd expected and trying to find my way around had taken hours. I was on my way back home when I noticed a small butcher's store with an elderly man behind the counter. I stopped the bike and turned off the engine, remembering to lock it before leaving it. I went around the back and slowly turned his trashcans onto their side – silently – then walked back around to the front of the store and walked inside.
"Hi, I just thought I should let you know I heard someone lurking and crashing about behind your shop. I hope they weren't making any trouble."
The butcher groaned to himself, and picked up a huge knife. "Will you watch the store for me?"
"Of course." I smiled sweetly. I waited until he left the room before hopping over the counter which was much harder to do with heavy boots on. I grabbed a small plastic bag and filled it with a handful of raw meat then leapt back to the other side of the counter and fastened the bag in a knot and held it behind my back. A few minutes later the butcher returned.
"Was everything okay?" I asked in a friendly tone.
"Yeah. Just some punks vandalising the alleys again. Happens all the time. Gone though, of course. They never hang around long. Did you want anything?"
"Oh, no thanks. I just thought I should make sure everything I was okay. See you soon, perhaps." I replied and left the shop concealing the bag of meat in my hands. I shoved it into the back compartment of the bike, presuming that it wouldn't get too hot since it doubled up to be a spare seat, and went straight home.
I rode through the forest quickly, leaving my bike outside and unlocked – I doubted anyone would get so far in here. I unlocked the front door and walked back inside. Taking a variety of different brightly coloured cases into the bathroom I applied my make-up and curled my hair again. I checked my phone but it was only half-past seven so I had another two hours before I needed to be there.
I decided to unpack my suitcase to pass the time and make the house look cosier but stopped as I reached the outfit my mom had given me for my birthday. Stepping back into the bathroom I changed into it and gave myself a twirl. I smiled, realising how similar I actually looked to Red Riding Hood. Unable to resist the cliché I stepped outside of my cottage barefoot and got the raw meat out from the compartment in my bike. As I predicted it had stayed relatively cool.
I was then faced with the task of getting the wolves' attention. I didn't want to wander the forest looking for them because I didn't know how large it was so instead I put two fingers in my mouth and whistled loudly. It was followed by silence. After a few minutes I did it again and I was about to give up when I saw the familiar amber eyes in the darkness. Stepping aside from my bike, I tore open the bag and held it out to him. He came up and licked the meat timidly. After realising it smelt healthy he took the bag from my hands with his teeth and brought it to the rest of the pack. I was about to go back inside when the Alpha walked back over to me.
"I don't have any more." I told him, although I doubted he understood. Curiously, I bent down and stroked him behind his ear. He licked my hand then bounded off to eat with the rest of his pack. Grinning to myself, I walked back inside.
I pinned the pictures of Falcone, Maroni, the Chechen and Gambol to my wall and then wandered back into the bathroom to wash my hands and feet after being outside. I got changed back into my shorts and t-shirt and finished unpacking my suitcase. After checking my phone again I realised I had less than half an hour to go and felt my stomach writhe. I had twenty-one dollars left, which would hopefully be enough to by myself a few drinks. I was sure I could get someone there to buy me more if I ran out of money.
I took grabbed a purse from my handbag and rushed around to find things I thought I might need. Firstly, I packed my keys and padlock for my bike. Then I put in my money. I searched through my handbag from today and got out my screwdriver and bobby pins, some lip gloss and eyeliner and a compact mirror. Finally, I took the small knife off my bedside table and put that in – then zipped it shut.
It took me seconds to put my leathers back on and rev up my engine. I locked the door to my house although probably unnecessarily and sped off, reaching the underground tunnel in just a few minutes. I parked slightly away from the bar so I could take my leathers off and lock them in my compartment. As I did this I slipped my heels on and attached the padlock onto my bike. There was no room for my helmet so I'd have to take it in with me. I took one last look at myself in my compact mirror and then – taking a deep breath – walked into the bar.
To my relief, the Chechen spotted me straight away and hailed me over. He was sitting in a corner booth with Maroni. I walked towards him, swaying my hips in a way that was barely noticeable but still caught people's eye (a trick my mom taught me) and sat next to him.
"Nice to meet you." Maroni said with a small smile, before getting up and sitting in the booth behind me with Falcone.
"Hey." I said to the Chechen with a smile.
"What you want to drink?" He asked, returning the smile.
"Does he do cocktails?"
"You'll be lucky to find a place in Gotham that does good cocktails."
"Oh… I'll have gin and bitter lemon then."
"Hey!" The Chechen shouted to a scurrying waiter, "Get us gin and bitter lemon and a whiskey!"
The waiter nodded and returned quickly with the drinks so that he slopped a lot of the gin and lemon over his uniform. He turned a beetroot red and returned to the bar to pour himself a large scotch.
"So. I was thinking about what you said last night. You still want to?"
I simply nodded, aware that people were probably straining their ears to hear. From their point of view this probably looked like a date. My smile grew as I tried not to laugh at that thought.
The Chechen tossed a small, torn piece of paper with a name and number on it and I picked it up to examine it.
"We're having trouble with a customer. She got married and her husband is an idealist who frowns on her buying drugs. He won't be bought off so we need to get rid of him."
"So…" I said, quietening my voice. "You want me to find this guy and kill him?"
He nodded and motioned for me to drink. I took a large sip and the gin burned my throat but I ignored it.
"If you can do this for us then I have a proposition. I want you to work for me. If you do it, it's worth ten thousand dollars."
"He must be a pretty big problem if you'd pay me that much." I noticed.
"Not at all. Some of us have paid millions to have people taken out."
I worked on keeping my face steady as though the prospect of receiving millions of dollars simply for taking a life was normal. Really, I was thinking of the measly twenty-one dollars in my purse…
"I'll do it. Can you tell me anything about him?"
"He was Gambol's customer so you'll have to talk to him. Now, I have someone to meet. You call me later when it's done and I'll help you get rid of him. Here's my number." He said, handing me another piece of paper and draining the last of his whiskey before smiling at me and leaving.
I sipped my drink slowly for a moment, staring at the piece of paper with the man's name and number on it. His name was Allen Ford. The new Mrs Ford would be in for some heartache.
When my dad brought the victims home when we lived in Japan they were usually homeless and had no family. He once brought home someone that had a sister who was also homeless but my dad left her in the street. The guy was begging me to let him go because his sister would die without him but I killed him under my father's condemning stare. My dad stroked my hair and told me I had to learn not to think of the consequences because if I felt sympathy or compassion I'd lose. It was a lesson he taught me constantly, insisting that if he didn't banish all ounces of pity from me then it'd be me ending up at the bottom of a lake or out on the streets, rejected. It was a simple case of closing my mind or seeing the profitable side.
If I kill this man then I get thousands of dollars, I get to be part of the mob and get to prove how serious I am. His new wife gets to keep on taking her drugs and Gambol keeps making profit. This man's death can lead to a lot of good outcomes. I folded the piece of paper in one hand then grabbed my drink and helmet and swept over to Gambol's table.
"Do you mind if I join you?" I asked, staring directly into his eyes. He gave a smug smile and sat back in his seat.
"Go ahead."
I slipped into the seat opposite him and gave the guy next to him a polite smile, before turning back to Gambol and tossing the small piece of paper over.
"Can you tell me about him?" I asked. Gambol unfolded the paper slowly, looked at the name and then put it back on the table, ignoring it.
"You put up an impressive fight last night."
"Thanks." I replied with a sultry smile. His smugness upon me asking to sit with him told me everything I needed to know. He thought of himself as a lady charmer. I found it was best to keep these people interested by seeming available but not being available. His eyes moved over my body. I held back a laugh. If he thought he was going to get me in bed he was sadly mistaken.
"You come to Gotham alone?"
"Yeah. It's just me."
"I hope you're not lonely."
"The Chechen's good company." I replied, unable to help myself.
His smile faded and his eyes slightly narrowed for a second before he regained his composure.
"You'll find this guy by the docks. He looks like this…" He said, tossing me a black-and-white photograph of a fairly tall and lanky man in a black smock with a white dog's collar."
"A vicar?!"
"Keep your voice down."
I laughed lightly. "My first day in Gotham and you're sending me to hell, Gambol." I flirted, to get back in his good books. "Don't you like me?"
He gave a short laugh. "Don't worry. We'll all be joining you."
"What is he doing by the docks?"
"Ahh… he likes to look out for thugs and try to show them the error of their ways." Gambol grinned at the idiocy of it. "Tries to offer them help for drugs and hands out food and water."
"So, I'll have an audience?" I grinned darkly. "Are they going to interfere?"
"Interfere in the murder of the man that tries to take their drugs away? Hell, they'll probably join in."
I finished my drink and stood up to go but Gambol caught my wrist and pulled me back slightly. "Hold on, if you're going to be working for us then I want your number."
I groaned inwardly but placed a smile on my face as I checked my phone for my new number and let him type it into his own mobile.
"See you soon." He said, engaging conversation with the guy next to him. I grabbed my helmet and left the bar.
Outside there was a map of Gotham with a star saying 'You are HERE'. It was covered heavily in graffiti but I managed to work out the way to the docks. I got changed back into my leather clothes and was about to set off towards the docks whilst replying my parents' advice in my head when I remembered something my mom said.
The outfit… it's so we'd recognise you if we read any news about you.
So I doubled back to get changed in something that would help me gain a reputation, although whether it would be a good or bad one I had no idea. Mom always said the reason she got accepted into the mob is because she dressed differently as a gypsy so she caught their eye. I hoped her idea would work for me in the same way…
I raced to my house to try and avoid wasting time. I dumped my bike on the ground outside and left it there. I routed through the wardrobe until I found it and slipped it on, carefully selecting a pair of sharp black heels. I was about to leave but I felt incomplete… I scanned my drawers.
Taking out an above-the-knee length sock that was striped black and pink and pulled it on my right leg, leaving my left leg plain. I drummed my fingers on my hip as I wondered what else the look needed. I tried various rings and necklaces but took them off, dissatisfied. A few minutes later, I found what I was looking for. A long, black fishnet glove. I pulled it on my left arm, leaving my right arm free. When I was satisfied that I looked a bit less like an innocent fourteen year-old I hopped back onto my bike, leaving my leathers and helmet in the house in case I need to make a quick escape.
I revved up my bike, feeling the heat on my legs and bracing myself to get burned. I tore through the streets of Gotham. When I arrived at the docks I found it fairly scarce. I parked and locked my bike by the entrance and ventured inside. Just as Gambol had told me, the priest was there talking to a homeless man that looked like he was trying not to listen. I walked up to him, my heart thudding.
"Hello, my sister." He said, with a warm smile. "Can I help you?"
I tried my best to block everything out, pretending that my dad was stood behind me, towering over me with his criticizing eyes. I kept the advantages I had thought of before firmly in my head.
"You seem like a decent guy so I'm going to be honest with you. God isn't on your side tonight." I began, moving towards him. I wished I had a gun, even though my father always told me they were cowardly weapons. Anyone could fire a gun. I just wanted it to be over quickly for him.
"What do you mean child?"
I reached for my purse, before remembering I had left it at home. I sighed and searched the floor for something sharp to slit his throat with. By my feet was a used syringe. I picked it up and pulled the plunger out, filling the barrel with air.
"Let me put it this way. God has decided it's time he met you."
"God… spoke to you, did he?"
"No. I don't believe in God. Hasn't he spoken to you?"
He started backing away but I approached him defiantly and stabbed his arm with the needle, releasing the air into his veins before I had chance to think about it.
"What-" He began but I saved him the time because he didn't have much left.
"Air."
He looked at me fearfully for a moment when I heard the man behind me yelp. A gang of drunken men had come up to him and started to cause a scene. When I turned back to the priest he was slumped on the floor – dead. I tossed the syringe into the water on the other side of the docks after taking a photo of the priest on my phone and sending it to the Chechen. When I got back to the homeless man he was muttering incomprehensibly as the group of brutes laughed at him.
"Look at 'er!" One of the men jeered. "She's dressed like a… fucking… what d'ya call it? Snow White or somethin'."
"That's not it Matt, you idiot, it's the one with the wolves." Another man retorted. Matt didn't seem to have heard.
"Fucking Snow White… You alright sexy? Want a hand?" He laughed as though he'd told the funniest joke in the world.
"Get lost, you creep." I replied.
"Oooooh." They cackled. "Feisty one, eh? Not going to give me a little kiss sweetheart?"
"Do you really want me to fight you?" I replied, to which they all coughed and spluttered over themselves with laughter.
"You gunna fight all five of us?" Matt slurred.
"Come here." I dared him. He looked around at his friends before stepping forward. As he got within touching distance I swept my arm towards his neck with my fingers stretched out so that I hit him with the side of my hand with as much force as I could be bothered with. He stumbled and fell to the floor, rubbing his neck.
"You stupid bitch!" He roared, getting to his feet and swaying dangerously. He aimed a pitiful punch at me but I caught his arm and twisted it backwards, increasing the pressure quickly until I heard the satisfying snap of a broken bone. Matt yelled in agony and slumped to the floor, cradling his arm. As his friends approached me I got ready to aim a kick at them but they stopped in their tracks to look at the sky. They began to back away until Matt shouted at them.
"Get 'er then! She's fucking crazy!"
I grabbed the head of the one closest to me and smashed it into the dumpster I was stood close to. His head split open and he fell to the ground, unconscious.
Out of nowhere, a set of impossibly strong arms grabbed me from behind and restrained me. The men stood in front of me turned and ran, leaving Matt and their other friend slumped on the floor.
A let out a screech and jammed my sharp heels repeatedly into his leg. He must have been wearing some sort of armour because I'd worn my sharp, pointed heels especially and with the amount of pressure I applied they should have pierced the skin. He finally dropped me but I landed slickly on my feet and quickly spun around to face him.
It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. To think I had felt slightly silly coming out dressed as Red Riding Hood! He was dressed in all black flexible armour with a mask that resembled a bat.
"What the hell?!" I yelled in shock, jamming my hand hard into the only part of him I could reach – his jaw. I didn't hang around to fight this guy; I pushed my feet off the ground and ran in the opposite direction. I could sense him chasing me so I bent into a low crouch and leapt up onto one of the huge walk-in dumpsters.
When I turned around to see where he was I saw his hand holding onto the edge of the dumpster as though he was about to swing himself onto it. I turned to run again, leaping from dumpster to dumpster. My shoes clattered loudly against the metal, making me determined to increase my pace. Once I got close to the exit I bounded off and landed safely on my feet and raced towards my bike, quickly turning the key in the padlock and starting the ignition. A quick glance in my wing mirror told me he had just jumped off the dumpster – not landing quite so gracefully – and was quickly getting to his feet. Without anymore hesitation I pulled back the throttle and sped through the streets.
I took my hand gracefully off the left handle bar after I was satisfied I was a good distance away from whoever that strange man was and took my mobile phone out of a pouch in my dress. Glancing down quickly, I found the Chechen's number and called it, carefully turning a corner one-handed and holding the phone to my ear.
"Red! How did it go?" He said cheerfully. I responded, slightly out of breath.
"I was being chased by a man in a bat suit, where can I go? I need somewhere safe, I don't know if he's still following me and I don't want to lead him anywhere."
"Go to the Narrows and wait outside Arkham. I'll meet you there."
I returned my phone to my pouch whilst keeping my eyes on the road and trying to remember how to get to the Narrow's from here. I spent a bit of time following the wrong road before I remembered how to get there.
The scenery rushed past in a blur and twenty minutes later I pulled over outside Arkham. I hadn't even noticed how hot the engine was feeling against my legs until I got off the bike. The Chechen was already there and admired my outfit.
"You look good."
"Thanks." I grinned.
"What happened?" He asked.
"I killed the guy I was meant to and knocked out some drunks that were bothering me and then someone wearing armour put his arms around me to stop me fighting the other people and when I turned around he was dressed like a giant bat! His armour was too strong though so I hit him and ran and he was chasing me… he was really weird."
"A bat-man?" He asked with a humorous smile.
"Pretty much."
"Well… here you go." He said, handing me a leather bag filled with ten thousand dollars in cash. I grinned and thanked him.
I went back home, stopping on the way to stroke the wolves. I added much more depth to my notes about Maroni, Gambol and the Chechen. There was something warm about the Chechen that I loved, he felt like a father figure to me already. Maybe it was foolish to trust him so easily but whereas I hid and manipulated my emotions in front of the others naturally, with him I didn't feel the need to hide.
I stood barefoot in the garage, reading through the notes I'd stuck around pictures of each individual persons – each one having a space on the wall to themselves.
Gambol:
Easily angered
Bigheaded, thinks he's a pimp
Has a band of tough but clingy followers
Thinks I'll sleep with him (yeah right)
Will be hard to shake off…
Maroni:
Fairly polite
Sat with a blonde woman he paid no attention to…
Close to Falcone
The Chechen:
Trustworthy
Kind and polite
Offered me work instantly
Like a father…
One of the head guys
Falcone:
Head of the crime family!
Took me incredibly seriously
Patronising
Depends on his power of fear
Has goons to protect him
He has the cops on his side…
I was too worked up to sleep. The strange bat guy had freaked me out and I couldn't calm down. I padded into the bathroom and looked at my reflection. I looked pretty impressive dressed as this, it looked quite realistic. I was about to begin taking my make-up off.
A knock at the door made me stop dead. My blood ran cold. Who had found me?
I swept silently and quickly into the bedroom, opening my purse and taking my knife from it. Tip-toeing over to the door, I pressed my ear against it and listened hard. I couldn't hear any movement outside. I took a deep breath and opened my door a crack. I peeked out and still couldn't see anyone.
"Who's there?" I yelled boldly to the darkness. There was no reply. I put my fingers into my mouth and whistled loudly than I had before. A few moments later the wolves came bounding towards me. The Alpha moved forward to sniff at something by my feet that I hadn't noticed before.
A small velvet box lay on the ground by my door. I picked it up and opened it carefully. Inside was a dainty Tiffany bracelet. It was covered in diamonds and made of platinum and must have cost more than what I earned tonight. With it was a note.
Congrats on your first job. – G
I stood up, taking the ridiculously expensive bracelet with me and added one more note underneath Gambol's picture. "Jerk."
