"Huh?” What's that supposed to mean? “Back to the topic, she was this freaked out neo-Nazi, shaved head and the whole nine yards, named Malloree. That was all ... messed up."
"So's there any hoochies what turned ya down, shark-boy?"
"One time, right, this chick, she canceled the whole deal because I eat pork."
"You eat pork?"
"Yeah. I do. Is that a problem?"
"Dunno. Have to think on that one..."
What is all of this? Everything that just happened, and she's worried about pork. Not like I told her about any of it, but still. Meanwhile the scorched area on my ribs is bothering me again. “All right then, if that's it, the station is set and everything. Just turn it on and adjust the volume thingy on top, next to the headphone plug."
"Awright.” She greedily takes the portable radio, dyin
