"Bullshit!" he leans into my face and spits it out, so he almost grazes my nose, and I pull my face away and turn to the side to pat my mouth and nose in disgust. His breath stinks of stale booze and ash, and my stomach lurches as I fight the urge to gag.

"This is an illegal protest, and I asked nicely. Now it's not MY problem." I turn back to him and nod to the army of black-suited coming toward me. I smile salaciously as if to say I'm done here, and you'll regret it, as they start shoving those on the ends and pulling them out of...