confused, confused, angry, angry.confused and angry.confusedly angry.but what is there to be angry for?why angry ?you need a therapist.no, i don't need a therapist.therapists are for borderline nutcases.i am not a borderline nutcase.i am a borderline angry person.i am a person teetering on the edge of yelling.of telling everybody to go jump in a well.of just yelling.like they said on Sheep in the Big City,-not Mad Scientist, Angry, Angry Scientist.I'm a sheep in the big city.but which big city ?all big cities. and small towns and everywhere at all.but do sheep get angry ?sure, why shouldn't sheep get angry.admittedly, they never look angry,but then.but then, neither do i, right ?apart from the flat expressionlessness of the face-which could be anything-and the positive-ish inflexionlessness of the voice -which means nothing in particular-it doesn't show. angry doesn't show. like a pressure cooker. but even that's got to go whee sometimes, right ? that's got to let off the hot, spewing, vicious steam.
"so i'll go 'round to the corner store, mate, and if i see a bloody indian, i'll beat 'im up."