I musta missed those sorts of riots. We don't have them in Blue Cove. [There was a shrug as she poured herself a large glass, slammed it down and then proceeded to pour herself another and slammed that one as well. The scotch was a familiar burn, and she barely winced as it hit the ulcer in her stomach. Shoulda fucking known that would come roaring back once she was back on fucking board.] But smashing fucking windows always sounds like a good idea.