Berren: ‘Ere, look. No one’s using this site right now. We could squat here for a bit.

Syannis: Oh, for pity’s sake. Can’t we just go home?

Berren: But there’s snuffers!

Syannis: Right. So I kill them. Sorted.

Berren: But I like doing sneaky stuff.

Syannis: Get that hood off. You look like an idiot.

Berren: Everyone else is wearing hoods these days. It’s a fashion statement.

Syannis: No it’s not. It’s ooo-ooo, look at me, I’m all dark and sinister. I have, like issues and stuff.

Berren: You mean like you.

Syannis: Stupid boy. I don’t have issues. I have a deep simmering rage that burns for revenge on those who stole my kingdom and butchered my family. That’s not issues. Issues is having a big sister who humiliates you with cutting sarcasm. Or parents who’ll only buy you a cheap second-hand car when you’re old enough to drive instead of a brand-new 4×4 like all the rich kids have. I don’t have issues – you’re the one with issues.

Berren: Me?

Syannis: You’re the one who wants to skulk about wearing a cloak and a hood all the time, loudly proclaiming to the world how sinister and dangerous you think you are, even though you’re not.

Berren: And you won’t let me!

Syannis. Exactly. That’s what I mean. You have issues.

Berren: You kill people for a living. That’s not having issues?

Syannis: No. That’s a job.

Berren: Er… Threehands? You remember Threehands?

Syannis: (pausing) That might have been a little over the top.

Berren (smugly): See. Issues.

Syannis: Look, just because I’m a bottomless lake of acid anger and resentment with a dark undertow of bitter vengeance, that’s different. And even if it isn’t, just because I’m a bit crotchety…

Berren (spluttering): A bit crotchety?

Syannis: … doesn’t mean I want everyone to know about it. You hood-and-cloak youngsters, it’s a fashion statement, that’s all it is. OOOooh… I don’t care about social values and conformity and fitting in and tedious crap like that, no, I have to be different and I have to make sure the world knows that I’m different and scary and filled with troubles. Ooooh, I’m so dangerous.

Berren (under his breath): Goes down well with the ladies though.

Syannis: What?

Berren: A bit of danger. A bit of edginess. Has an allure, doesn’t it? And attraction, eh? (under his breath again) not that you’d know about any of that.

Syannis: You mean, you set yourself up as a loose cannon who’s on the edge, who might turn into a psycho nut-job at any moment, who’s driven by dark desires he can’t entirely control, who’s probably an obsessive borderline stalker, just might turn out to be a rapist or an axe-murderer but more likely will end up dead in a ditch with a knife in him like the sad loser he actually is under all that facade, and women like that?

Berren: (points silently to the urban fantasy and paranormal romance section)

Syannis: Oh for pity’s sake… This site sucks. I don’t know why we even came here. I’m going home.

Berren: Don’t forget your hood!

Syannis (leaving): Boy!

Berren (running after him): I’m just saying you might get laid more…