[She tucked the knife into the waistband of her pants, hopefully hidden enough that he won't be able to see. He looks the same as he always does for a show - black hair and black goatee and top hat and tails. Except a blood stain is spreading slowly across the breast, staining the crisp white fabric red.
She expects him to talk. He always talks, a million things to say and opinions to give out, but he doesn't now. Maybe she's supposed to begin.]
Father-
[But before she begins any excuses she's been planning since she arrived here he interrupts her.]
no subject
She expects him to talk. He always talks, a million things to say and opinions to give out, but he doesn't now. Maybe she's supposed to begin.]
Father-
[But before she begins any excuses she's been planning since she arrived here he interrupts her.]
Make a man out of you!
[And lunges.]