When you texted asking me to call the cops for you, I didn't call them—on purpose. I didn't do anything except bite my finger and listen to what was going on upstairs and feel like shit. You managed to call the police yourself. Nobody got hurt. They made your crazy, violent friend leave without arresting him. And then I had the satisfaction of hearing a cop turn and yell, "Why do you keep letting him back in?" That's what I want to know. This is the fourth time the cops have come to remove that guy from your apartment and the second time you've asked me to get involved. I see where the pattern is going. Do you think you're a saint for giving a mentally ill homeless kid a roof and a slice of pizza and a fuck every once in a while? What a clueless bastard you are. He needs treatment, and you're not getting him closer to it. That's why I didn't call the cops for you. I heard him yell, "You're gonna get a broke nose." And dude, you deserve one.