The woman – more a girl really – was white, with short, electric-blue dreads, and the man's face was buried beneath the duvet with only his hair visible – one of those man-buns that some of the young white guys were sporting nowadays.
HORTON I reckon he's ruint Mary Jane! I dunno what else it could be! [Weeping] But Amos needn't throw her raisin' up to me! Whatever she's done I've got a clear conscience!
I give the call to the Manager of Opposition Business.
He lay down, cuddled the blankets up to his ears, closed his eyes and composed himself to sleep, at peace with his conscience and the world.
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