Choice+B+not+kill

“Indeed I am not!” You reply with a twinge of pride in your voice. With eyes gaping, Kingsley says “Oh, hah. You’re like, so totally gonna regret this. See ya 'round, new kid.” His harsh words pierce deep into your soul, as he walks away with his trousers drooping. At lunch, you are accompanied by the captivating presence of solitude. Across the room, you spot Kingsley and his crew. A signal must have been given, for all at once they set off in your direction. With Kingsley’s command, G-dog is permitted to speak. “Hehh, man. Maybe if you would have joined our gang you might not be chillin’ alone.” “I am quite fine. Thank you for voicing your concern. You speak in such a kind and considerate manner. Your words flow with ease off your shimmering, pink tongue like a raindrop rolling off the lush leaf of a pineapple tree on a ninety-seven degree clear summers day." “Dudeeeee, whut lol? What’s wrong with you? Speak normal stuff like me.” And with that, the grand crew of three makes a glorious departure. Every following day, Kingsley and his crew continue to ridicule your helpless being. Hard you do try to not let their ruthless sentences get, as the phrase is often stated, underneath the top layer of your epidermis, but their remarks cause you much emotional pain. So obvious the gang has made it that they yearn for your companionship. This induces you to ponder the pros and cons of bringing about affiliation with the crew. The list of cons overwhelms your existence and you decide to cut all ties with the dangerous gang. You don't kill anyone. Attempt at cutting all ties with the gang.