And yet the foolish boy wailed tremendously, useless tears wasting away on his cheeks, although a few would occasionally catch the fall to the grass, in which nature was sustained thanks to the whiny Martin. A few wipes of cloth and band-aids ended Martin's rampage, but he was still trickling out fluids every time the dog barked. I heard a tumultuous rumor that the dog was punished by law enforcement. They sent him to a shelter or shot him or something decisively irrelevant. Martin probably felt oppositely ashamed, jeering and clapping in his conqueror's demise. It sickened me.

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