They guys Wayne hangs out with in class are all build and no brains, though they're no jocks. All from bad neighbourhoods and a couple with criminal records, the boys your brother calls his friends usually spend class with their iPods im and their hoodies pulled down to cover stoned, red eyes.
"Eh, Wayne. What you got there?" Joey nods toward your brother's hands, where you lay.
With sandy brown skin, a shadow of beard and serious, dense brown eyes, Joey looks less like a high-schooler and more like a guy you'd see dealing pot on a street corner.
Wayne has been striving to impress his new tough-guy friends any way he can and, unfortunately for you, a toy-sized little man might be just the thing to get him bragging rights.
"Ah, nothin'." Your brother says, dangling you carelessly in front of the intimidating young men. "Just a little toy of mine.. You can have him if you want, Joey. I've gotten what I want out of him."
Joey scratches his whiskery chin, nods interestedly and reaches his huge hand out..
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