The real possibility of being shot, or locked away in something called the Hole, sobered him. Some answer was expected, but he’d no idea what form it should take. Critical Theory Theory was not helping. So, in a sudden flash of inspiration, he decided to do something utterly novel. He would just tell the facts as they were.

It was all over the news. The Butcher caught on film. A black man in a standard-issue mask was taking out the BS squad, and adding in the grocery store manager for good measure. As he sat there, juices running down his chin, he couldn’t help but feel a little awe at the beatdown he’d administered.

The little boy grit his teeth, and nodded. A look of understanding passed between them. Shelton felt something he’d never felt before. It was new. It was powerful. It was danger. And he kind of liked it.