"Why is that thing in her arm?"

A soft, continuous beeping rang in my ears. "It's helping her while she's asleep, scamp."

"I want her to wake up. I don't like this place."

"When she does, I bet she'll love seeing all the nice pictures you drew for her at school."

With some effort, like I was trying to budge an elephant instead of the simple movement of opening my eyes, I managed to lift my heavy eyelids. I immediately shut them again, blinded by the bright light shining above me. It took a few seconds for me to adjust to the light and before I could even begin to think of where I was, my first thought was that I felt like I had slept for decades.

As I raised my hand to touch my cheek, hoping that there were no wrinkles, I noticed the IV inserted in my arm, connected to a plastic bag hanging beside the bed. My eyes darted around the room, taking in every inch of my surroundings as I winced from the soreness in my neck.

The entirely white room smelled of antibacterial cleaner and soap and across from the bed was a chart with hardly legible writing in black marker.

Belmont Medical Center

Friday, November 27th

Patient: Tessa A. Byrne-Reyes

Nurse: Brooke

A flat screen television, showing the latest episode of Ryan's favorite cartoon, hung above the chart, alongside an unreasonably loud clock. To my left was a bedside table with a tray of brown rice, steamed vegetables, chicken noodle soup, and an opened carton of chocolate milk with a bendy straw. Get well cards, fashion magazines, stacks of old sci-fi movies and comic books, wrapped gift boxes, and a vase of white roses surrounded the tray.

To my right, behind the heart monitor and machines, I saw Elena, Belmont, and Parker asleep in the teal hospital chairs against the wall. There were visible tear stains on her cheeks.

A tall, broad-shouldered man was bent down in front of a teary-eyed Ryan. His weather beaten, tanned skin and the rough calluses on his hands showed his time spent outdoors and the freckles sprinkled across his nose and his unkempt jet black hair gave him an almost boyish appearance despite the lines in his face. The sleeves of his button down shirt, hiding his bulging biceps, were rolled up to his elbows and if he was wearing a fedora, he could be cast in an Indiana Jones movie.

I struggled to move my mouth. "Dad?"

Though my voice was barely above a strained whisper, it made every head snap towards me. Ryan launched himself onto the bed, wrapping his tiny arms around my neck. Elena, Belmont, and Parker simultaneously jumped up from their chairs, all looking relieved.

Not wanting to scare my brother, I held back a groan. My father noticed the pain that flashed across my face and gently pulled Ryan back, reminding him that he needed to be careful. Elena did not heed his warning, squeezing me with the grip of a python and muttering incoherently into the crook of my neck.

"You gave us quite the scare, little bird," my father said, kissing the top of my head. "Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you need more pillows?"

The tip of my tongue brushed against my dry, chapped lips. "W—what happened?"

"You and Nelson got in a car accident after you left the memorial," said Parker, looking uncomfortable with the sight of me in a hospital bed. "You went over Belmont Bridge. One of the officers passed by the scene and called it into the station. The doctor said you uh had some swelling in your brain so they put you in a medically induced coma. Same for him. They weren't sure when you'd wake up."

My father sat on the edge of the bed with Ryan, who rested his head on my shoulder. "Your mother called me as soon as you were taken to the hospital and I took the first flight back here. This room was the place to be. Your friends dropped off cards and presents. They'll be glad to hear that you're awake."

As my father went on and on about spending day and night in this room for the past two weeks and how they were nervous wrecks the entire time, I realized that I had no recollection of the car accident. The last thing I remembered was speaking with Mrs. Belmont at the memorial.

He explained that temporary amnesia was a typical side effect but slowly, I would regain my memories. I knew that Elena and Belmont were likely in the car with me at the time and they would answer my questions, once Parker was gone.

Encouraging me to eat, my father left the room to find my mother and the doctor. I moved the tray closer to me and grabbed the carton of chocolate milk, fighting against stiffness in my arm. Ryan helped me by picking up the carton himself, sheepishly confessing that he had a sip earlier in the morning.

"Are you okay?" I asked Parker, his eyes transfixed on the heart monitor.

"I uh...I don't like hospitals that much," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "When I was five, my parents took me to visit my grandmother who was in one because of her cancer and—well, they're not a fun place. Seeing you at first was a little freaky."

I managed to sit up straight, despite the throbbing pain in my side. "How bad did I look?"

"A gash on the side of your head, a few scratches on your cheek from the glass, and bruises on your legs and arms," said Parker, trying to play it off as nothing serious. "You had three cracked ribs too but by now, they're probably almost healed. That's the most I understood whenever the doctor came in here to talk to your parents."

"What about Will?" I asked, indifferent to my injuries. "Is he okay? I should go see him."

He stopped me from rising out of the bed. "You just woke up. It can wait. He's fine. He hasn't woken up yet and his injuries were worse since he was driving but the doctor told his parents that he'd recover. Don't move."

The door swung open but instead of my parents or the doctor, Chief Parker and a familiar blonde-haired officer stepped into the room. I could not shake the feeling that I met the other officer before and that same feeling was telling me that he was somehow related to the accident. When Parker called him Officer Garren, I briefly recalled seeing him at the memorial and his hands running along my back.

"Dad, what are you doing here?" asked Parker, surprised.

His father crossed his beefy arms. "I could ask you the same since you skipped school again after your mother warned you not to miss another football practice or you could lose your scholarship."

Turning away from his son, his eyes rested on me and his stern face broke out into a smile that made me somewhat uncomfortable.

"So you're the infamous Tessa," he boomed. "Well, if you're the reason my boy's been missing so much school, I can't blame him, can I?"

"Dad, stop," muttered Parker, embarrassed.

He barked a laugh. "It's a joke, kiddo. Relax. We were looking into another case when I overheard someone say that she was awake. I thought I could ask you about the accident, Tessa. We're still not sure what caused it. All we know is that Will Nelson was driving and somehow he managed to crash into the bridge."

"I uh don't remember much," I said, putting down the milk carton. "You could ask me in a week or two."

"Was he drinking before he got in the car?" he questioned.

A stifled giggle caused a slight twinge of pain in my chest. "Will? He doesn't drink and he doesn't do drugs either, before you ask that...unless you can somehow get high from cucumber sandwiches. Maybe there was something in the road. I'm sorry I can't be more help, sir."

My mother was less pleasant towards the officers upon seeing them in my room. She chastised Chief Parker for interrogating a minor without her parents, especially one who had woken a few minutes ago from a coma.

Angering my mother was like poking a sleeping bear. While most people tried to intimidate by shouting, it was far more unsettling when she threatened someone in her usual, sweet voice. It made it seem like she grew almost twice her size and could shatter the person on the receiving end of her rage with a slap across the face. The mere act of her hands on her hips led Chief Parker to apologize to me before leaving the room with Officer Garren, who had been watching me.

For another week, I could not shift from one side of the bed to the other without throwing my parents, Parker, and Elena into a panic. My parents had not been this concerned since I was seven years old, a day commonly referred to as 'the incident', and refused to leave my bedside, even offering to feed me when my muscles weakened or I complained about a headache. The doctor was not much better, refusing to tell me about Will's condition and speaking to me like a small child.

As part of the hospital procedure, I needed to go through therapy, both physical and emotional, to deal with the accident. The only real pain was in my ribs, which was dulled by my pain medication. Past experiences made me anxious around therapists, leading to an hour of silence where I pulled at a string on the edge of the bed while the therapist tried to get me to talk about my feelings.

I was changing out of my hospital gown, finally able to return home. Though the doctor gave me permission to go to school, my parents wanted me to have a couple extra days of rest. My mother had been collecting my assignments from my teachers, having to dodge advances from Dr. Baxter, and it was more than enough to keep me occupied at the house.

She kept my mind off of the accident and a comatose Will with a flyer from the upcoming exhibition at the gallery. Every year, I submitted a piece for the exhibition and the time off from school would allow me to get my creative juices flowing for my newest work.

After three weeks of constant surveillance, I was alone with Elena and Belmont. I changed behind the curtain to stop him from getting a free peepshow.

"My dad's filling out the paperwork and my mom left to take Ryan to school," I said, pulling back the curtain. "Now's the time to talk. What happened?"

Elena and Belmont shared an uneasy glance. "Well, you remember why we left the memorial, right? Definitely a makeup kit," she said, shaking one of my presents.

I snapped my fingers, needing her full attention. "Would you stop using your superpower? This is serious. Yes, I remember leaving the memorial and something with that blonde officer."

"Garren. He was there because he got a tip that a car had drugs in it and he searched you and Will," she explained, sitting on the bed. "After that, Will was driving and one of those shadow monsters possessed him. It was saying really weird things that made no sense and then when it left his body, it was too late for you guys to avoid the railing."

Belmont mentioned that Garren arrived at the scene less than a minute after the accident. Something odd they both noticed was that Garren did not immediately call the accident into the station and he looked more guilty than shocked. It was as though he knew that they would crash on the bridge. After managing to pull both Will and I from the wrecked car wading in the water without any assistance, which was a feat itself with his slender physique, he had peeked inside Will's mouth and mine before requesting an ambulance.

None of that sounded normal. "Why would he be looking in my mouth?"

"Could be a fetish," replied Belmont, eating a box of chocolates from Mrs. Gable.

"Something's off about him," I said, tying my hair up in a ponytail. "He was staring at me when Parker's dad was trying to ask questions."

Belmont shrugged, too busy stuffing his face to share in my suspicions. "He probably thought you were lying about not remembering the accident. You missed my funeral, by the way. You know, it looked like Rosalie was crying during my mom's eulogy but she was probably leaking oil. Someone was nice and got me white roses like these."

"Tessa was almost killed. You think she cares about your stupid funeral? Can you ever think of anyone but yourself?" asked Elena, shoving him in anger.

"Well, I thought we could visit my grave," he suggested. "Seeing my dead body might bring up memories of that night, Byrne."

Before I could continue our conversation about Garren's odd behavior, my father entered the room with an empty cardboard box. He placed the presents and get well cards inside and commented on how a lot had happened in his absence. I blushed when he mentioned my newfound popularity, judging by the many gifts, and my wardrobe change.

"I wanted to try something different," I said, evasively. "Is that bad?"

"Of course not. People change, whether they're seventeen or seventy. You're never stuck having to be a certain way. It's part of life. We learn, we grow, and we change." He tucked the fashion magazines into the box. "But I hope that this change isn't being forced by your new ghost friend."

"My new fr—" I stopped in the midst of tying my sneakers. "Mom told you about what happened to Fin Belmont?"

"No. One of my assistants is friends with Rhys and he heard the news. Your mother told me that he decided to remain a ghost." He glanced around the room, his gaze inches from Belmont. "I suppose he and Elena have been with us throughout your stay. She also told me that you were investigating his death."

"N—not anymore," I lied, attempting to pass off my taut expression as one of pain.

He cradled the back of my head. "I hope not. That family is nothing but trouble and snooping around by yourself...well, it may end with your funeral. I wouldn't want that. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, but could we see Will first?" I asked, picking up the vase of white roses.

No one knew who had brought the roses to my room. There was no card to indicate the sender but my mother assumed that it was Parker, as part of some romantic gesture. Ever since I woke from my coma, she had begun teasing me about our friendship and how he spent every day in the hospital.

On the way to Will's room, my father handed me a present: a silver-chained necklace with a raven-shaped pendant. In place of its eyes were two vibrant green gemstones. The stones, according to my father, were malachite, rumored to ward off evil spirits. He had purchased the necklace from a market in Athens shortly before receiving the call about the accident.

In Will's room, his mother, stepfather, and Katie were sitting in chairs, each occupying themselves. Katie refused to look at Will, her eyes, baggy from lack of sleep, on her phone as she played a game. Every so often, she let out a tiny sniffle.

His stepfather was busying himself with work, reading over files from his law firm, while his mother, clutching a handful of tissues, moved her chair beside the bed, speaking to Will as if he could hear her voice. Seeing my father and me in the doorway, she dabbed at her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Devlin," she said, wiping away the tears. "You must think I'm—"

"A mother talking to her son?" he asked, empathizing with her. "Nothing wrong with that, Esme. Tessa wanted to visit Will."

She rose from her chair. "Of course, of course. We were so glad to hear that you were okay, Tessa. You had us just as worried. You know that Will has always been a safe driver, don't you?"

"Yeah, he's driven me home lots of t—" I started, seeing the tissues shake in her hands.

"He would never put anyone's life in danger, certainly not one of his closest friends," she interrupted, fiercely. "The very idea—"

His stepfather consoled her as she sobbed against his chest. Handing Katie his wallet, he encouraged her to take her stepmother to the café for tea. Mrs. Nelson hesitated to leave Will alone but followed a sympathetic Katie out of the room, continuing to sob into her tissues.

His stepfather wiped his glasses with a handkerchief. "Apologies. Chief Parker paid us a visit about an hour ago. He wanted to ask questions about the accident. Third time this week. If he shows up again, I don't think Esme will be able to take it. She's barely holding herself together as it is...what I wouldn't give to speak my mind to that man."

"Third time in a week? What did he say that's gotten her so upset, Connor?" asked my father, curious about the constant visits.

"At first, we thought he stopped by because Tessa had woken up and he wanted to see if Will was out of his coma as well. I told him that when Will was awake, I'd contact the station so they could get a clearer picture of what caused the accident. He stopped by without any warning," he said, disgruntled. "And he pestered Esme, asking if Will had been acting strange before the memorial. He thinks Will was under the influence and that's what caused the crash."

That theory was ludicrous. "Will would never do such a thing."

"Agreed but he claims to have a witness. I handle paperwork for Officer Barton and from what he told me, it's Chace Parker. He says that Will was outside with boys from school and they convinced him to get high. Using hearsay from the chief's son reeks of corruption but to say Will was...why would my son ever hang around with those children?" he asked, restraining his anger in front of me. "They've been bullying him for years. I thought it might lessen with Fin's death but his friends stepped up in his place."

My hands were shaking in anger as one thought occupied my mind: beat Chace Parker within an inch of his life. Just when I was beginning to believe that he could be a decent person, that hope was tossed aside like garbage. I knew that he and Will hated each other but I could not fathom why he would tell such an egregious lie to the police.

What he would consider a silly prank could end up a mark on Will's permanent record and with the terrible police work in this town, another possible scenario was being sent to prison, using the technicality that he was a couple months from turning eighteen. Will was not the only person affected by this lie.

His stepfather revealed that Katie had become withdrawn ever since the accident and after a bit of snooping, he learned that she was being bullied online by classmates and friends. These bullies, most of them from Parker's clique, sent her rude messages about Will and how she should hope that the accident permanently removed him from her life.

No matter how much they argued with each other, she and Will were close, bonding over the loss of a parent. I wondered if Katie was using the game on her phone as a distraction from the nasty comments.

My father looked perplexed. "I don't know Chace well but he seemed fine when he was with me and Celia."

"Because of your daughter," countered Mr. Mitchell. "I don't mean any offense by that, Devlin, but who else could it be? Those two were awful peas in a pod...Chace and Fin. I'd say that he was causing this trouble as a way to deal with his grief but that would imply the boy has emotions. He's as heartless as his father. I'm glad you stopped by."

While he spoke to my father in a hushed whisper, showing him a piece of paper from one of the folders, I walked over to Will's bed. "I promise that you'll be okay, Will. I won't let Parker or his stupid father drag your name through the mud. If I'm right about Parker, he's the one that'll be going to jail," I whispered, my fingers grazing the inside of his palm.

The beeping of the heart monitor quickened and I heard him take the tiniest breath. When I moved my hand, out of shock, the beeping resumed its steady pace. Elena and Belmont, having witnessed it, looked at me and I shrugged, puzzled by what caused the change in the monitor.

"Connor, I'd keep this quiet," muttered my father. "If it were any other family, I'd tell you to bring it to the police but this...they'd ruin you. How did you get your hands on it?"

Mr. Mitchell slipped the paper into the folder. "It was mixed in with my files. My folder was on top of my boss's and one of the new interns must've put it in mine by mistake. He's worked closely with the Belmonts for years. Don't you find it odd? I called the office and this life insurance policy was drawn up days before his death. The date here says it was months before but it's been altered. The lettering doesn't match in some places. Perhaps I'm being paranoid."

"Who's the beneficiary?" my father asked, glancing over at me but I was swift enough to feign complete ignorance.

Though the office would not discuss it with him, Mr. Mitchell had discovered that the money would be transferred to an offshore account. Not being much of a geography buff, he deduced that it was located in Greece. What peaked my interest, aside from the insurance policy, was my father's offer to speak with Mr. Belmont, referring to him by his first name.

The drive home was unusually quiet with a tension that could be sliced with a knife. Belmont pinched my arm from the backseat, to stop me from blurting out the millions of questions building up inside my head.

Which Belmont had taken out life insurance days before the incident at the Falls? Why was my father referring to Mr. Belmont by his first name when he despised his family? Why were Parker and his father attempting to smear Will's name by pinning the accident on him?

When my father asked what I wanted for lunch, I responded with a noise between a meow and a high-pitched squeak.

"What was that?" he asked, parking in the driveway.

"Why did you call him Charles? You think the Belmonts are the worst part of this town and have their heads up their asses. Is he the reason that you visit Belmont Hills? I met your security guard buddy when Will and I were driving there for the memorial and based on what he said, you guys talk a lot," I said in one, continuous breath.

He stiffened at my accusation. "Tessa, whatever idea you have, I assure you that it's wrong. Years ago, I made a deal with Charles Belmont and I've been visiting him about once a month."

"Why would you make a deal with the Belmonts?" I persisted. "You hate them."

"I'm not...particularly fond of most members of that family," he said, carefully choosing his words. "But when I made that deal, it was for the one thing that would let me swallow that dislike. It was to protect you."

After a traumatic incident (the shakiness in my father's voice was enough to tell me what he meant), my father visited Belmont Manor to ensure the person responsible could never be let out of confinement. Mr. Belmont was an important figure with enough wealth and connections to keep them from being released on so-called good behavior or escaping in the middle of the night.

My parents were not enough to keep that promise when they received calls from the facility, telling them that person who shall not be named was improving immensely and showing true remorse. While the doctors insisted on the genuine change, my parents were not as fooled, certain that it was a well-rehearsed act. In exchange for the favor, my father would find rare artifacts while out on a dig site and give them to Mr. Belmont, who desired priceless objects for his home to brag about during parties.

It was a true testament to my father's devotion to his family, to make a deal with that snake. "I appreciate you keeping him away from me but it doesn't mean you have to make a deal with the devil and part of me means that literally."

"Tessa, I would do anything to protect you, Ryan, and your mother," he stated, to assuage my worries. "We don't want him out and about."

"You're willing to make deals with a man who might've killed his son?"

Belmont punched my shoulder, which hurt ten times worse because of my sore muscles. "Why would you—did you hear what Connor said? You're going to forget it. Think about something else...anything else."

"Do you think he's wrong?" I asked, hoping to pick his brain. "Do you think he could've—"

My father's expression spoke volumes. He was not willing to bet that Mr. Belmont was completely innocent but not foolish enough to voice such an opinion aloud.

"Do I think he's done despicable things? Yes. I witnessed those things when I was a boy and it's when I learned a sad but important lesson," he said, regretfully. "Sometimes, you can't beat the bad guy and the little guys have to live in their world, never stepping on their toes if they want to live till the next day. As wonderful as it would be, life isn't like the movies. You don't just wake up one day and take down an evil corporation to bring peace and freedom to your community. Real life is messy and sometimes, it's unfair. We have rules that we have to abide by and sadly, the people with the power get to make and change those rules. If they want, the rules don't apply to them. That's how the world works."

"You know his death wasn't an accident," I said, needing at least one other person on my side.

Grimacing, he turned towards me. "Sweetheart, I'm sure the entire town outside of Belmont Hills and hell, even some in here believe that. Do I think that the police hastily declared it an accident because someone paid them off? It's a definite possibility."

He took my hands in his and I had never seen him look so serious.

"I know you already promised your mother but I want you to promise me the same...that you won't continue to look into his death," he pleaded. "Be content with being the small fish in a big pond. Be the cute little clownfish who stays in her anemone for her senior year and don't go after the big sharks. When you go to college, you're free to be whatever you want in that pond. A clownfish, a shark, a creepy anglerfish..."

In the past, hearing such an impassioned plea from my father would caused me to abandon my plan. It almost convinced me this time until I recalled a few things: the creatures attacking me at the memorial, one of those very creatures possessing Will, and how those 'big sharks' were trying to hurt my friend.

Maybe I would never be able to convince people like Hilton to change their ways but if I was ever going to find out what happened to Belmont and its connection to those creatures, my parents would believe that I was an innocent little clownfish while in truth, I was a great white shark.

With me being in a coma and my family spending all their time at the hospital, they had gotten partial to takeout and fast food restaurants instead of eating at home, meaning my mother never went grocery shopping. My father offered to drive to the nearest market to get the ingredients for my favorite lunch. My mother was the superior cook but to his credit, he had never burned down the entire kitchen.

I waited in the living room, flipping through the channels.

"Tessa, maybe your dad's right. I agree that this jerk's death was probably not an accident but it doesn't mean we have to figure out who did it. Look at what's happened since you started investigating. Those shadow monsters almost killed you," said Elena, styling my hair into a fishtail braid.

"Exactly. They didn't start showing up until now," I said, reflecting on the events in the aftermath of Belmont's death. "I mean, we saw one attack Katie but they've been different. For some reason, those creatures don't want us knowing what happened on the bridge."

"Then let's listen." She glared at Belmont, who was engrossed in the action movie on the screen. "If it's between listening to a conceited jerk and creepy shadow monsters that can kill me, I choose monsters."

"This is about more than him, Elena," I argued, determined to find the truth. "You said when the creature possessed Will, it was saying something. What was it saying?"

"I don't know. I was busy freaking out." She shuddered, not wishing to relive the accident. "It said a bunch of creepy stuff. Something about a master and damning all—it was gibberish."

I pulled my knees to my chest. "Was it? Maybe it was a message."

"Yeah, stop digging or we'll kill you," she said, plainly. "That was the message. Can't we focus on fun things like the winter ball or—what the hell was that?"

Elena jumped at the sound of breaking glass. Opening the closet door, I quietly picked up a metal bat and tiptoed towards the kitchen. I leaned against the wall, listening to the soft footsteps on the tile floor, and swung the bat with all the strength I could muster as a hooded figure stepped into the doorway.

The figure grabbed the bat with one hand while lowering their hood with the other, revealing a stunned Officer Garren. The bat was an inch away from his face. He tipped it to the floor, never taking his eyes off mine.

"You don't strike me as the athletic type," he said, panting. "Your brother's?"

"Mine, from little league," I replied, holding it in a tight grip. "I stopped playing after the coach banned me for biting Belmont when he pulled up my shirt."

"I was swatting a bee away from you. I had to get ten stitches in my arm," said Belmont, touching his left arm as if the bite marks were still visible.

"You deserved it for being a perv," I whispered, speaking low enough so Garren did not think I needed to be sent back to the hospital. "Get over it. It was ten years ago."

I raised the bat. "Get the hell out of my house," I told Garren, prepared to bash in his kneecaps.

"We need to—" he started.

"We don't need to do anything. You are leaving before I report you for breaking and entering," I threatened.

Garren reached into his jeans pocket and dangled a set of keys. He claimed that Chief Parker had copies of keys to every house and building in Belmont Falls made for every member of the police force. The whole idea screamed illegal on every level and he agreed though he counted it as an excuse against breaking and entering.

Elena crept up behind him, hoisting the cookie jar. To my surprise, he stopped her and placed the jar on the counter.

"H—how did you...Tessa, what do I do?" she asked, frantic. "Should I knock him out and we can throw him in a ditch? Let him think that he imagined it?"

"I can hear and see you, Elena," he said, looking at her. "Was that not obv—"

I swung the bat at his leg, knocking him to the floor. He groaned and rolled onto his side.

"Tessa, there's no need for the bat," he gasped, clutching his knee. "We need to talk before your father gets home. I'd rather have this conversation in private and no, I'm not a reaper like you. I'm a guardian, a member of the Order of Charon."

"I don't give a damn if you're my fairy godmother, Officer Pretty Boy," I said, twirling the bat menacingly. "Get the hell out of my house before I use this to permanently rearrange your face."

He raised his hands in self defense. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop the accident. I'm supposed to guide you in secret but that was difficult when I knew you were in danger. I had to be discreet. Whatever caused the accident, it sensed me."

"So you let me and my friend almost die?" I asked, dissatisfied with his excuse. "What kind of guardian is that?"

"As I said, I needed to be discreet." He managed to get up on his uninjured knee. "That's why I warned you not to get in the car. I thought you would listen to a cop."

"A regular cop, sure. One from this town? Not a chance. What do you mean by guardian?" I placed the metal bat under his chin. "Tell me everything and when you're done, I'll consider whether or not you walk out of here with this shoved firmly up your backside."