The youngest is contemplating his plain cheese burger, the eldest his burrito. The youngest’s friend is contemplating his chicken nuggets and I’m contemplating him. He’s small with specs and ginger hair. Quite cute looking I suppose you could say. Which makes it all the more difficult, because I’m thinking about the most humane way of disposing of him.
To be clear, this isn’t the kind of thing I do on anything like a regular basis. In fact I can’t remember the last time I disposed of a child - let alone a small, relatively cute one with ginger hair and specs. But fate has dealt young Reginald a cruel hand, because he’s standing between me and £100,000.
