And I realised that you have been like a druglord, and I, a mere runner. A mere runner of unimportance. A drug mule some would call. You have many of those, little drug mules that come along offering their services for an intangible joy of smelling your cigarette infested breathe, hearing your throaty voice and glancing at your rugged and worn face. I am at your mercy, your disposal and your service.
Did you know the death of the drug mule is caused by the drug lord?
I knew I was walking into a mistake the moment we met.
