“Mark called me a gold-digging faggot on Monday, does that count?” “Let's beat him up,” the twins say, and I smile. It's sort of their, like, motto or something. “This is getting way out of control. Mark used to know how to toe the line, but now he just insults our girlfriend and gets away with it? I don't like that,” Spencer says, tucking his hands together behind his head and frowning hard. “Don't forget,” the twins say, each lifting up a single finger in the air. “He's guilty. We're sure of it.”
