…“A mathematical equation does simply not solve itself Mister Sullivan, it must be nurtured. It must be stroked into eruption of its answer as if it was your very own member. It must be desired like a woman you want to make passionate love to, and then it will provide you with the answer.” Caplain dictates venomously from the front of the room, thrusting his arms in various directions as the words spray the room with spit. “We are, you and I, two different beasts trying to survive in the same world and expecting the same results from different tactics. While mine way may seem foolhardy to you, the man who blatantly runs towards what you so desire without care of consequence or failure, it is tested, tried and fortified through victories and defeats. So stand there and be the man, do what you must do, but remember, my washing is clean, while yours is covered in red!”

“Are you done?” Sullivan sighs with a roll of his eyes. “Can we continue?”

“Was I ever stopping you?”

“No,” he says while raising the pistol in line with Caplain’s head. “No you weren’t!” he says as he pulls the trigger, the bullet tears through his eye and explodes out the back of Sullivan’s head, sending pieces of skull and brain over the other three who kneel hogtied beside him. Conner and Peter scream in terror, while Lynett turns her head and closes her eyes tightly…