streets are uneven when you're down
#16
((No problem))

By this time Vukasin was dead serious. At te tone the boy spoke to him in, he bristled, but all he did was laugh again. Not the same hysterics, but a cold, harsh sound. Picking up the martini glass, he tossed the rest back, still staring at the orange hybrid. "Fine, kid, bu when you're ready to face up to who your family is and the fact that you are not your father, I just hope you haven't already told everyone else to get out. So long, Pumpkin Butt."

Without another word, Vukasin picked up his medic satchel, slung it over his shoulder, and walked out the door. He was about ready to head back to P.V., anyway. He'd had enough alcoholic cavorting in the last three days to last him at least a year. "I could be wrong, of course... Maybe he will turn out like his father, whoever his father is," he said quietly ot himself as he walked away down the street.


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