The man began choking me, I suppose because I’d uttered something of my thoughts to him. I might have called his prick “little lady.” I may have pointed out its resemblance to a mole rat. The man could not take a joke, apparently. I squirmed beneath him, his hands tightening around my windpipe. I slapped him across the face, and then I heard Benoit shouting, and the man was pulled off me. Benoit held the man’s shoulders; they were both panting.
there is a lot going on here. o_o
