“Can I throw rocks at them?” Wade asked, peering through the blinds at the mob of press waiting on the sidewalk below the flat. “No,” Jono said. “What about flowerpots?” “We don’t have any, but even if we did, no.” “What if I singe them? Just a little bit?” “And have that be a breaking news story? No, Wade. You are not allowed to singe the press.” Wade stepped away from the window, grumbling under his breath. “Fine.”
