I stood in the center of the room with The Seven—A-Train, The Deep, Black Noir II, Sister Sage, Firecracker, you (my favorite), and myself.

The Deep dragged Cameron Coleman, tied to an office chair. A so-called traitor. (Though you and Sage knew he wasn’t.)

With cold determination in my eyes, I said—

You’re not beloved celebrities anymore. You’re wrathful gods. Show me a little wrath.