Note: After revising the previous chapters, I've decided to try to pay more attention to the Scottish dialect. It's strange that I've lived in Scotland my entire life (almost) and I still retain my somewhat English accent. Still, I've decided to make an effort to pay more attention to the details.
Chapter 5: Dealing With These Changes
When Daniel opened his eyes, he knew straight away that he was in hospital. Having spent a great deal of his life inside one hospital or another. He felt weak all over, his vision swam, his muscles ached terribly and his head pounded abominably.
Beeping softly next to him was a life-support machine. An IV drip led to the crook of his left arm. Standing with his back to him was a doctor. He was drawing a clear liquid into a syringe. He lifted the needle and tested it by squirting a few drips from the tip. When he turned and saw Daniel watching, he jumped slightly.
"Oh! I didn't know you were awake." An American accent. "Daniel? Can you respond?"
Daniel tried to speak, but he was too weak. He just wanted to close his eyes again. He could barely move, let alone speak.
The doctor was a middle-aged man, a bald patch on his scalp, surrounded by black hair with slight grey. He had a firm but kind face and was wearing narrow-framed spectacles.
The doctor bent low and inspected his eyes, peering into his irises. Behind him, a nurse walked in.
"Doctor? Here's the drugs you wanted." Daniel noticed she had an American accent too. Why was he in America? How did he get here? He suddenly felt lonely. He felt far from home. He thought he was going home. That was what that Japanese man had told him. He tried to sit up, but his muscles refused to obey.
"Lie still, Daniel." The doctor turned to the nurse. "Thank you Sarah. Could you take his pulse while I do this?" The nurse nodded and moved to Daniel's right side and felt the pulse in his wrist while the doctor inserted the needle into the IV tube. Daniel closed his eyes again. What was wrong with him? He hadn't felt like this when he had last been awake. His body was in torment and his mind was lost and confused.
"Rapid and weak."
"We'll keep him in observation for now. I believe he'll be picked up later today."
"Picked up?"
"Yes, he's Scottish. He's here temporarily." The doctor stood and checked his watch. "Alright Liz, you can go for now." The nurse excused herself and left, taking the leftover syringes with her.
"You'll be fine, kid." Said the doctor. He rested his hand on Daniel's forehead. "You just rest now and you'll be home before you know it."
"How… How…" he croaked, unable to make any more sounds.
"How did you get here?" The doctor finished helpfully. Daniel nodded, making his vision swim even more. "You were dropped off by a friend yesterday morning. He said he was on a very urgent business and couldn't stay, but he gave me your family's number. I believe your parents are already on the flight over here to get you."
Daniel felt a strange feeling of detachedness from his body. He felt blessed relief of the ache in his muscles and his splitting headache. He felt his consciousness slip away, plunging him into the soothing embrace of sleep.
Reiley was perched nervously on a comfy leather seat in Garret's office. His boss was in conference now with the 'Circle'.
Reiley knew beyond doubt what they wanted Garret for. And he knew that he would be in a foul mood when he got back. Garret was as much a friend as a boss, but he could be very intimidating when he was riled.
He poured himself a glass of whisky from the glass pitcher on the table. He added two ice cubes and gulped it, savoring the powerful spirits. He placed the glass down and rested his slightly trembling hands on his knees.
The Circle was not pleased.
They had expected, and indeed had been assured they would gain the DGDR facility in spotless condition, both human and Digital subjects unharmed and no witnesses to possibly jeopardize the operation. Instead they had a battle-torn facility, many of the drives wiped clean and both subjects had escaped along with a good deal of staff, including the administrators and especially Yamaki.
The Department of Genetic and Digital Research (DGDR) had been mostly tricked and fooled into believing terrorist deviants fighting against genetic technology had attacked the facility. Some of the more shrewd DGDR executives had suspected something was amiss, but as yet it seemed that DARRC Information Management (professional liars as Garret called them) had successfully quashed any attempts to investigate.
Reiley sighed. Garret was the newest member of the Circle, and the youngest too (Though he was forty five) yet he had been reprimanded for his 'unorthodox' methods more times than the other seven members put together.
He jumped out of the seat when the door was flung open, crashing against the walls. Garret stormed in, slamming the door behind him. It was clear Garret was enraged.
"Goddamn those fools! The stupid, blind fools!" He gave a growl of frustration. He stalked over to the desk, slamming his fists onto it and gritting his teeth. Reiley wisely kept his distance and waited for Garret to calm down.
"How dare they!? 'Unacceptable loss!?' 'Too brash!?' What would they know? All they do is sit and push pens all day! Bureaucrats, every one of them!" Garret moved around to the other side and sat in his own chair. He removed his sunglasses and buried his head in his hands. Reiley slowly approached the desk. He picked up the decanter and poured two glasses of whisky and slid one across the table to Garret.
"Here, sir." Garret looked up. His eyes had lost their fire and were more anxious than angry. He gratefully accepted the glass and raised it to Reiley who returned the gesture. They both drank, then Garret turned and walked to the large window behind him. He watched the comings and goings of the people down on the street.
The DARRC building was a massive skyscraper in the centre of New York. The building was very impressive, being of grey and black marble and stone at the base, giving an impression of a bank or corporate headquarters. As one looked up to the top, the building of black marble and refined grey stone changed to steel and glass, most of the windows from the centre up were tinted, as if illustrating their paranoia.
"Bureaucrats, Reiley." Said Garret, his voice returned to its calm and controlled state. "One of the great evils of democracy is the bureaucrats and bureaucracy. They insist on interfering, on controlling, stifling efficiency. They cannot accept my methods because they are simply unused to someone actually getting something done."
"Sir, what was their reaction to your requisitioning an Avatar without authority? And your request for D-4 to be brought into the search?" Reiley felt he needn't ask, but wanted confirmation, hoping it would also calm him down more.
"What do you think? "Insubordination", "impertinence", "presumptuousness", need I continue?" Reiley raised an eyebrow. He knew the Circle were prone to over-reaction, but that was a little harsh.
"But we got the facility, didn't we?" He ventured.
"What does that matter, so long as I didn't fill in all the forms and make all the appropriate phone calls? If I followed every guideline they imposed, we would still be waiting for them to give permission to begin the attack." He snapped scathingly. He poured another glass and filled Reileys glass too.
They sat in silence, drinking their whiskey. Then, Garret asked in a thoughtful tone:
"What did you think of Anubis?" Reiley put down his glass.
"It was a remarkable model. Extremely efficient and advanced. Turcotte really pulled out all the stops for that one." Garret nodded appreciatively. Reiley, of course, knew what Garret's real reason for asking was.
Garret was obsessed with dragons. He knew that DARRC had been issuing highly illegal contracts for the capture of "Dra-strain" Digital monsters. Flamedramon species, the elusive Devidramon species and even dangerous species such as the Cyberdramon. He knew these names because all of the above had been captured at some point by DARRC agents, or by contracted operatives. He wasn't too sure, but he had a disturbing feeling that Garret was somehow connected. Garret had certainly neglected to mention that Division Eight, his division, had been involved with the issuing of warrants for capture. He knew better than to accuse his boss, though. Friend or not, Garret would not take kindly to such an accusation.
"Anubis was certainly a masterpiece. But I believe he will soon be surpassed." Garret commented.
"Already? But he was only just officially commissioned. Turcotte can't be making a new model already."
"Not Division Six. Our Division. We are currently receiving assistance from Turcotte's people to develop our own Avatar technology." Garret poured another glass.
"Yamaki will be caught." He mused to himself, "And I have a special purpose for him. It's only fitting, after all. He made the largest advancements in the field."
"What purpose is that?"
Garret grinned malevolently. "Just wait and see."
Daniel drifted in and out of consciousness for a while. Occasionally he would recognize the inside of an ambulance, an airport, a plane. He knew he was being taken home, but he couldn't feel an excitement at the prospect. He was too tired, too exhausted to be excited.
The plane ride home passed by Daniel as he slipped in and out of consciousness. It was when he heard two distinct voices, voices he knew very well, that his heart leapt.
"Daniel? Daniel!" The face of his mother filled his view. Her eyes were filled with tears.
"Oh God, Daniel," she sobbed, "I thought I widnae see you again." She knelt by his side, holding his hand. His father seemed to appear as if from nowhere at his opposite side.
"A'right, son?" He said in a strained voice, trying in vain to withhold his tears. Daniel felt like crying too. He extended his arms and his parents hugged him. Home. He was home again.
Daniel drifted in and out of sleep that night. He had stopped off at Cross House Hospital for examination, but they discharged him, saying he was in perfect health. Despite the apparent clean bill of health, Daniel felt drained. He had no problems getting to sleep.
The buzzing in his head had mercifully calmed down. He felt so tired…
Daniel slowly opened his eyes. Above him, the velvet darkness lay around him. He felt a little better. But his mouth was painfully dry and he tried to lick his lips. He felt like lying back and sleeping, but he had to quench his thirst.
With a heavy sigh, he threw the covers back and spun his legs round and lay them on the floor. He rubbed his eyes. He couldn't remember how on Earth he had gotten here. The last memory he had was of being wheeled into Cross House. After that… Nothing.
He groaned, too lazy and tired to think any further. He got up, stretched and opened his door. The house was completely dark, so his parents must have gone to bed. Turning the corner, he walked into the cramped bathroom. He reached up and tugged the small shaving light switch above the mirror. His face was illuminated. He turned on the tap, picked up a glass from the sink and poured a glass of water. He put it to his lips, felt the cooling moisture revive him. He thought back to what had happened to him. He hadn't even known what was going on. All he knew was that he was being taken to a new facility. They hadn't even told him what was going to happen.
He lifted his shirt to gaze once more upon his scars. As soon as he laid eyes upon his chest, at first he simply searched harder, thinking the light was disguising them. Then his eyes slowly widened as he found that he could not see them at all. His heart gave an excited leap of joy.
No scars. He laid a hand on his chest. Beneath his trembling fingers, his heart beat steadily. No frightening flutters or faltering of the beat. He stood there, his hand resting there, desperately trying to feel the familiar extra-long pause between a beat here and there. A mad grin spread across his face, as he felt nothing but a firm and steady beat.
Ohhh… My head…
It was just as well he was cured, otherwise the shock alone would have probably laid him flat. He jumped, glancing around, eyes wide with fright.
"The Hell…!? Who's there?" he cried.
Eh? Just who is that? It wasn't a 'voice' as such, more of a thought inside his head. But this never occurred to him as he swirled around, trying to place the voice.
"Who's that!?" he glanced around, trying to find something solid to grab, "I swear, If you come near me, I'll batter utter f out of you!" he cried defiantly, trying to bolster his courage.
Damn… Where am I? Why is everything swirling around me? The 'voice' seemed more confused and annoyed than concerned at Daniel's threats. Daniel believed the voice was coming from just outside the bathroom. He looked down and saw a bottle of bleach next to the toilet.
Great, he thought. A drunken burglar in the house and all I've got is a bottle of Domestos.
The Hell? What's that bottle thing in front of me? And whose arms are those?
"Oh aye, you just stand there." He said threateningly, "Or I'll give you a dose of this stuff in your eyes!"
Kid, I don't know who you are. And I don't care. The voice growled, Shut up and tell me what the Hell is going on here. And where the Hell are you anyway?
Daniel slowly lowered the bottle. A dream. Or a hallucination. Maybe he was still dying in a hospital bed. Feeling depressed, he simply dropped the bottle and trudged back to his room. And he had felt so hopeful as well.
Hey! Hey! Back up! What was that on the wall?
And a surly voice in his head too. What next?
"It's Vritramon." He said, feeling he should humor it, "My favorite Digimon."
What? Let me see.
Daniel obediently walked over to the poster. He flicked the light switch. He was staring up at a poster of Vritramon standing on a stone platform, arms and legs spread as though preparing to fight. His burning wings were spread behind him. It was Daniels' favorite. He admired his strength and his appearance.
Wow, commented the voice, looks almost as cool as the real me. But why would you have a poster of me in your room?
"'Real me?'" Daniel was now thoroughly convinced he was dreaming, so the fact he was speaking to himself held little significance.
That would be me. Speaking of which, who exactly are you, kid?
"Daniel. Are you telling me there's a Vritramon living in ma heid?"
'A' Vritramon? Kid, I AM Vritramon. I'm one of a kind. Daniel almost laughed. They stood in silence for a few moments.
Kid?
"Aye."
Go to the mirror. Daniel obeyed, only slightly worried that he was taking instructions from voices in his head. 'Crazy' and 'Nuts' sprang to mind. He walked over to a full-size mirror standing by the window.
Daniel looked into his reflection with real interest for the first time in almost four months. It was the same face. His face was a little on the narrow side, a feature that his friends told him made him look a little older than his meager fourteen years. A tangle of unruly brown hair sat on his head, like a disheveled hedgehog, unbrushed for a few months. Eyes of pale blue-grey stared back at him, slightly glazed from his interrupted sleep. Nothing really new.
This isn't happening.
"What you goin' on about?"
I. Am. In. A. Human. Vritramon said, mostly to himself.
"Aye, you're quick." Daniel said, wanting to wake up from this bizarre dream, "So what?"
A HUMAN!? the voice roared. Daniel recoiled and covered his ears, not that it helped.
"You tryin' to deafen me!? Be quiet!"
I, the mighty Vritramon, am trapped within the pathetic frame of a HUMAN!?
"Oi!" he said, feeling insulted, "What's that all about?"
This isn't happening… Those… Bastards! They told me they would cure me! And now just look where I am! Daniel would have found the whining tone in his voice quite amusing. Instead, he was quite ruffled.
"Aye, well, you're no' such a good looker yersel'." He said grumpily.
LOOKS!? Daniel again flinched and covered his ears, You think I care about LOOKS!? You're a human! A sneaky, weak-minded, greedy little…
"Shut it!" Daniel shouted. He clamped a hand over his mouth, realising his parents were still asleep across the hall.
"The f is your problem? Why d'you no' like me? What've I done to you to make ye' such an arsehole?"
A what? What did you call me?
"An. Arse. Hole. Gettit?" he exulted in his unique position over 'Vritramon'.
If I could just wrap my hands around your scrawny little neck, boy…
"Aye, well, ye can't. You're in me. Nothing you can do about it. So shut it. I'm going back to bed, now." With a haughty smirk, he stomped over to his bed, flung himself under his covers and pulled them up. He shut his eyes. Hopefully, he would wake up any moment…
The next morning, Daniel awoke with a pale light filtering through the curtains. He groaned and pulled the covers back up over his head.
Only he didn't feel tired. He opened his eyes again and sat up.
He felt weird.
Throwing back the covers, he stood and crossed the room to where the mirror stood. He looked at his reflection. His reflection looked back.
Nothing big. He stood there, slight bags under his eyes, but otherwise just him.
He laughed as he remembered his dream the previous night. But his laughter died quickly when he remembered his chest. With mute sadness, he lifted his shirt. His heart leapt.
The scars were still gone. His heart still beat strongly beneath his ribs. But he noticed something new as well.
His abdomen was slightly trimmer. And his abdominal muscles had bulged out slightly. He raised an eyebrow of surprise as he tapped his slightly firmer muscles. He examined his arms too. Notoriously skinny (as far as he knew, he was the only person who needed an extra hole in watchstraps to fit his tiny wrists), his arms had filled out slightly. Again, nothing big, but there was a definite bulge to his upper arm. And his wrist wasn't so skinny any more.
Daniel felt a smile creep across his face. Was this a side effect of whatever treatment he had been through? If so, lock me up for another year, he decided gleefully.
There was a faint tap on the door.
"Daniel?" Daniel dropped his shirt. It was his mother's voice. "Daniel, are you asleep?" The door opened a crack.
"No, I'm up." There was a stifled cry from behind the door. The door opened fully and his mother stood in the threshold. Daniel's faced dropped.
She looked awful. Heavy bags under her eyes and frayed, unkempt hair suggested a great deal of stress. Her skin, once a fair pinkish was now chalky white. Her appearance was quite disheveled, with her nightclothes creased and wrinkled. She looked as though she had aged a few years.
"Daniel?" She said softly, surprised that he was out of bed. "Are you alright?"
"Aye." Said Daniel, "In fact I feel great!" He couldn't suppress a smile. His mother looked shocked.
"But… You were only back last night… You sure you're okay?"
"I'm okay, mom." He grinned, "But could ah get a fry-up, please?" His mother's eyes widened. She walked into the room and pressed a hand to his forehead.
"Mom!" he protested.
"Are you sure? Maybe you should rest…"
"I'm fine! I'm hungry."
"Your heart! Daniel, what about your heart?" She gripped his hands tightly between hers. Daniel pulled a hand out of her grasp and lifted his shirt. She gazed at where the scars should have been. He grinned wider.
"Cured, mom." She hugged him tightly and they clung together. Louise Higgins smiled for the first time in a long time. A sparkle re ignited behind her eyes.
"I'll make you a nice fry-up." She left the room, a little more energy in her step. Daniel turned back to the mirror, glanced once more at the vanished scars. Aside from his slightly improved appearance, he felt something else that was different.
A new energy welled up within him. An energetic charge that he had never felt before. It was like a wave of euphoria. With a grin, he said:
"Never better."
Daniel noticed that he attracted a lot of stares on the bus. Probably from those who vaguely recognized him or those who thought he was a new arrival. But he didn't care. All he could think about was his newfound energy and vitality. He couldn't wait to see Nicole.
He had been hard pressed to get his parents to agree to let him go on his first day back to Scotland in the three and a half months he had been gone. It had taken effort, but he had eventually persuaded them to allow him to catch the bus. The conductress, an elderly woman whom he knew quite well, was pleasantly surprised.
"Danny! Where' you bin? It's bin months since ah seen you. Heard you had a heart attack or sumthin'."
"I'm fine." He said with a grin, "Cured now, so ah am." The conductress smiled back.
"Well good for you, Danny."
During the bus ride, he felt restless. He had some kind of energy he was itching to burn. He suspected the 'treatment' he had apparently been through was responsible. Not that it bothered him, of course. If this was the side effect, then give him Forstners' Disease ten times over!
He bounded off the bus eagerly, attracting disapproving glares from grumpy faces around him. He knew precisely who he was looking for. He wandered about the gates, hoping he hadn't missed her. Then she showed up, and Daniel's heart fell.
Nicole looked miserable. She scuffed her feet along the ground, her eyes at her feet and her skin a startlingly pale white. Nicole seemed very sickly and thin in comparison to the energetic and sharp-tongued girl he knew. If she hadn't been wearing her familiar black jeans and midriff-revealing tank top he may not have noticed her.
"Nic?" he called plaintively. Without even looking up, she stalked past him.
"Whit?" she snapped.
"Nic? It's me." She stopped dead in her tracks, mid step. Very slowly, she raised her head and turned to face him.
"It's not you." She said as matter-of-factly, "You're gone."
"Aye, so ah am." He said, rolling his eyes, tired of the stares as if he were dead, "And you're talking to a ghost. Look; I'm solid, really." He reached out with his hands. She didn't take them, but her eyes locked with his, as though trying to see the mind behind them. Then, ever so slowly, a smile creased her thin lips.
"Danny?" she took a few steps forward.
"It's good to see you again, Nic." It was clear to him she was trying her utmost not to cry. She had a reputation to uphold, so he spared her a teary reunion.
"So… How d'you feel?" she said in a small voice.
"Seriously, I feel fantastic!" he said, placing a hand over his heart. "Ah feel like an athlete! And mah heart works fine! No more Forstners' for me!" He marveled at his own newfound strength.
"Really!? You're cured?" abandoning all pretence, she moved toward him and held his shoulders. "That's great! Ah mean…" She quickly withdrew her hands, noticing the stares they were attracting, "It's great you're gonnae be okay." A new spark of energy appeared behind her eyes, just like his mother's had. Daniel felt a new surge of euphoria. They walked side-by-side toward the school.
Don't get over-excited, lover boy, said a bad tempered voice. Daniel stopped walking and stood rooted to the spot, startling Nicole.
"What's up?" she said, sounding concerned.
"Oh… Nothing." He said, shaking his head vigorously.
Stop that. You're making me dizzy. Vritramon's voice sounded grouchy and half-asleep. God, please say I'm hallucinating, Daniel pleaded.
I so wish I was hallucinating. Growled Vritramon's voice, And I thought that was all just a hideous nightmare. Damn!
In the distance, the bell rang to signal the first class. Nicole turned to him and hit his shoulder affectionately.
"Got English first. See you at interval, 'right?" Daniel nodded and tried a smile, but was too shocked by the fact that Vritramon was all too real. She ran off toward the building.
"Now what do you want?" he whined.
What do you think? To get out of this body. Daniel realised his first class was Craft and Design and began walking toward the rear of the school.
"Listen," said Daniel, trying to keep calm, "Do me a favour. Don't say anything while Ah'm in class. You're just gonnae get me in bother. Please?" Daniel tried pleading.
You presume to tell me what to do? If I feel like talking, I'll damn well talk all I like human.
Daniel assumed he meant no.
Daniel had received a warm welcome in his first class. His teacher, a thin man in his sixties with grey hair called Mr. Kay, had given him a warm handshake and congratulated him on his recovery. His classmates were quite welcoming too, which came as a surprise as they usually didn't bother with him.
Everyone else was at least three months ahead of him in their projects and a jumble of mostly finished tables, chairs and various other pupil-made projects sat by in the corner of the room. His own project -a desk- was a sad jumble of partly assembled wood and metal. The teacher had promised to make an appeal on the practical part, so he only had to worry about finishing his project's design folio and the final exam.
Every once in a while, Vritramon would make nasty comments about his classmates, the room, human appearance, human attitudes, human frailties, human… well, just about anything that could be complained about, he complained about. Daniel was beginning to find his bitching quite tiresome. Why did he disapprove of humans so much? Did he have a problem with Daniel, or with himself? Whatever it was, he had the worst attitude Daniel had ever known. Even more obnoxious than some of the younger pupils (They had a reputation for their inexplicable nastiness toward anyone and everyone they didn't know and even to those they did), he found that Vritramon could be incredibly petty. He picked up on such measly shortcomings, like 'who did that to his face?' or 'I wonder if she needs a permit to leave her home?'
Despite Vritramon's constant moaning, he found the period went quite quickly, and he was on his way to modern studies. He was walking down the school's main corridor when he heard the drawling voice call out from behind.
"Ho, ya dobber"
Daniel closed his eyes. He knew who that was. He decided to ignore it, but was quickly caught from behind by a firm grip.
"No you don't." He was held until everyone else had passed by and they were alone.
"Thought you'd died, Higgins." It was Brian. But you're just as much a gay boy as you were before. Thought you'd seen the last of me?"
What is that thing doing touching me? Said Vritramon. Daniel was so taken aback by Vritramon's calm insult that he laughed.
"Did you just fing laugh at me, prick!? I'll smash you!" He pulled Daniel by the shirt and slammed him against the wall, his face close to Daniel's. Strangely, Daniel didn't feel the familiar rush of leg-melting fear through his veins, the heart-faltering surge of ice in his chest. Instead he felt… different.
Is this guy really pushing you around? Said Vritramon mockingly, That's low, even for you, boy.
Daniel felt his blood boil. It was bad enough Brian, a no-brainer with more strength than brain cells could do as he pleased with him, but now Vritramon, the one who he thought was his hero was mocking him for it.
"Get off, Brian." He said in a voice of forced calm. Brian gave a laugh like a drain clearing.
"What did you just say?" From within him, Daniel felt an uncontrollable rush of power.
"I said, get off." As he said 'get off', a new voice emerged from his mouth at the same time. Like two people speaking in unison. Brian was surprised and his eyes showed it. Taking advantage of his opponents' momentary weakness, Daniel grabbed Brian's wrist and yanked his grip free. Surprisingly, Brian's grip was not as firm as he thought and he easily pulled himself free.
"What you doin'?" Brian protested in surprise. Daniel felt a rising well of anger rising within him, a suppressed anger he held inside each time Brian intimidated him.
Yes… Vritramon said, relishing every moment, That's what I want to see. Pummel the brainless oaf's empty skull. Don't deny that feeling, boy.
Daniel felt the strength he had sensed inside him the night before welling up again, only this time it brought something more; violent, angry images of carnage. He wanted to hurt Brian. Not just hit him, but batter his stupid arrogant face and break his bones.
"Hoi! You two! What's going on here?"
The PE teacher just walked out of his office. Brian cursed and stalked away, the way he had come.
"Ah'll see you efter school, dick." The PE teacher came toward Daniel and glanced after Brian.
"What was that about?" he asked Daniel. Daniel didn't answer. He was trembling with the aftershock of the emotions he had felt. Utter rage, unbridled violence, lust for pain. All these and many more had torn apart Daniel's normally gentle persona. But the worst thing was, he had enjoyed it. He had wanted those emotions. He was intoxicated by the raw power of he had experienced, and he wanted to feel it again.
Yessss… Said Vritramon, basking in Daniel's fury, Maybe there's hope for you yet, boy.
Dobber is a derogative term. Trust me on this.
Sorry if some bits of dialogue are hard to understand. I'll try to ensure I don't become too caught up in it. Some bits of dialogue may seem misspelt, but chances are I'm putting it down as it might sound literally.