Now, when your sat at a gaudy blue table surrounded by people who seem to be perfect other than the terrible dress sense and the strange hair, you would feel at ease - mostly. I wasn’t. Far from it. My heart thumped within my chest and what was supposed to be a straight face smothered with a slab of white face paint was actually becoming a worried scowl, my eyebrows arching downward. The black and white of my clothes looked ridiculous, but that was the only way to fit in with these equally ridiculous fools. My plan was simple. Pretend I am a mute mime, only here for the entertainment of these prim and proper scums, until when I finally feel like there is an opening, I pull out the weapon from my pocket. Well, when I said my plan was simple, I purely meant it used to be. Now that everyone was looking at me with those curious, suspicious eyes of theirs, my plan was already in shambles. Time for plan B. Which I had created before I realised I had to disguise myself as a mime: talk myself out of it.