To say that I was slightly pissed when Nick turned into a full-blown teletubby would be the understatement of the century. I was very upset. And I planned on speaking to him about it, because if he didn't grow up, I was going to beat the living crap out of him.
"Nick," I said in a firm voice as I approached him from behind. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Nick stared at me for a moment. He turned his head three degrees to the left, practically shrugging me away - but no one shrugs me away. Next thing I knew, my hand was ringed around his neck, and I had him up against a wall.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Sullivan!?!"
"What are you talki---"
"You know exactly what I'm talking about! You've turn into a friggin' cissy!!"
Nick's eyes were wide, and I couldn't tell if he was scared, or battling to conceal his fury. Maybe both.
Nick said calmly, "I don't know what you mean."
Of course, this was bullcrap. "THAT'S BULLCRAP!"
Nick grabbed my hands and pushed them away. He dropped to the ground and pushed me back. I almost fell, but I caught myself.
He yelled, "Get a hold of yourself Judd!"
"A leader is supposed to lead," I yelled, my jaw and fist clenched tightly, "not let his soldiers do whatever the hell they want!"
Nick scowled. "You don't understand."
"Oh, yes I do. I understand just fine! You're a spineless coward who can't even---"
I was cut off by a kick to the groin, I fell to the ground but rolled, swinging myself back into a standing position. But - it wasn't Nick who had kicked me. It was Gwen.
"Leave him alone!" she snapped. "Get out of here!"
I frowned. "Now that's how a leader should behave. If you want to continue being a little girl, I suggest you hand over your leadership to someone else."
And with that, I turned and began to walk away, groaning inaudibly at the pain my groin.