“I’m not going to do it,” Prepotente said, his face buried in Miriam’s robes. “He was mean to me, mother. He’s awful. Just awful. He’s worse than those buffoons at Club Vanquisher.” “Pony,” Miriam said, stroking the goat’s head. “We discussed this. You mustn’t insult everyone.” “He called me by my special name. Only you can call me by my special name.” I exchanged a look with Donut. We needed to get the hell away from these nut jobs.
