“That thing’s a menace! I’m putting it down!” A door slammed. An old man in his seventies shuffled down his front steps. Further down the road, a couple opened their door and peered out. The mothers on the porch rose to their feet, their children all watching the altercation in the street, mouths gaping. “Hey!” the old man yelled. “What’s going on?” “Leave that dog alone!” a mother shouted. The little kids in the yard started crying. The loud voices drew two of the militiamen on the corner—one a tall man, the other a short, squat woman.
Like, sir, why did you decide to pick a fight for no reason?! Just ignant.
