My cousin said that the pushers have a quota that they have to meet, and the quota keeps being raised. That means that the customers have to come from...somewhere, and the customers of a rival are the obvious candidates. As long as this stays as a fight with fists, we innocent bystanders will probably be alright, but I'm afraid that this whole thing could escalate to knives, or even guns!" What can we do about it?" I don't know, Tom. The best thing, it seems to me, is to stay as far from those. For a second, I thought he was choking, that someone would have to do the Heimlich, and I didn’t know how to, nor did I think anyone else here knew first-aid.Today Marcoba’s face was sticky with sweat, his lips were chapped, and his eyes were terribly bloodshot.He was wearing a bright orange, dashiki type of shirt, matching genie pants, combat boots and an enormous necklace made entirely of white bird feathers, like a boa.Man-bun pursed his lips, raised an eyebrow at Marcoba.Marcoba sneered at. More

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