Cyrus has a knife pressed to Devine’s neck. Something no man has ever walked away from. “What the fuck are you doing?”, Tim exclaims, finally snapping out of whatever was going on with him. “Simple, we won’t get into district 13 if we’ve got a faced, but if we give them a head with a pretty pair of dead eyes and a nose sticking out of it we’ll be heroes, plus it’s like what you said…he’s a cat, even a good cat will hunt a mouse if he gets hungry, so Devine?”, Cyrus turns his head down to face Devine, “are you gonna be a good boy and run back to district 9 or is your head gonna make a nice little gift for the revolution”. Devine starts to panic, “b…but what about Tim, will they let him in? Y…yy…you gonna kill him too Chris?”. “They love me here”, Tim says, “sorry Devine but you’re on your own, they know Melanie the barbarians half breed son very well here”. 

“So it looks like nobody has a problem with me painting the carseats the same colour as the inside of Devine’s neck”, Cyrus says, leading Tim to sigh. “Chris…just leave it”. “Listen Tim”, Cyrus adds,”it’s him or us, we’re two minutes from 13, if we try to smuggle a faced into 13 we’re fertilizer”. “You heard him Devine fuck off”, James says. “Hang on”, Devine responds with panic. “Chris cut his head off”, James says in response to Devine’s plea. “On it”, Cyrus responds as he moves his arm to angle the cut. “Don’t cut his head off”, Tim says annoyed, holding his head in his hands, “just let him go”. “I don’t wanna go”, Devine says smugly. “Cut his head off then”, Tim says nonchalantly. “On it”, Cyrus responds. “Wait!”, Devine pleads. “Can we cut this fucking sitcom bit, Devine right now, run or die? I want a straight fucking answer or the big guy’s gonna chop your fucking head off” James says.

In a turn of events nobody could’ve foreseen Devine stuck both of his middle fingers up and started laughing, “you’ve got a good eye Cyrus, I was an insider”. Cyrus enters a state of pure shock, he can’t move his hand. Tim clenches his fist “you worked for the regime the whole time?” his voice rises, tears yet again dropping from his eyes, “you got Benny killed?”. Devine starts laughing, “the regime? Pfff of fucking course not I had nothing to do with those assholes”. Cyrus snaps out of it and slits Devine's throat, Devine's body drops to the floor before Cyrus chucks his head on the ground. “What the fuck Chris?” Tim asks. “He killed Benny”, Cyrus says with a shrug. “He wasn’t with the fucking regime…There’s others out there after us Chris, who knows what he could’ve told us”, Tim says dissapointedly, “how did you know he was an insider anyway?”. “what?” , Cyrus responds. “You pulled a knife on him because you knew he was an insider…right?”, Tim asks. “Oh, no”, Cyrus responds plainly, “it was just like what James said, he's a dog and dogs gotta die or some shit”. “Fuck sake Chris”, Tim replies, “there’s another group out there after us”. “And how will they get into district 13 if not even the regime can”, James says in defence of Cyrus, “Chris might’ve fucked up, but it also looks like that lump of skin by your feet was supposed to be their ticket to district 13”.

The conversation is broken by the sound of a knock on the tinted window, Tim rolls down the window. A man in a black uniform with red lapels looks in, then turns his head and shouts, “this car's Tims, it's fine”. Tim smiles at Cyrus and nods as the car makes its way into district 13. All the windows are lowered to make up for district 13’s blistering heat. Although the three week rager had ended, banners saying “the boar has been hunted” were still spangled across the city. Cyrus sees his picture everywhere, his old picture, the one with eyes and a mouth and a nose, defaced. Not defaced by a dog, but by fiends with spraypaint. He looks away from the window, down at his own hands. The hands that murdered doctor modork, the same hands that murdered Devine, the same hands that murdered countless faceless. Then he looks back outside, at the world beyond him, the world where he is dead. “Looks like we missed quite the rager”, James retorts, “no harm, there’s surely another around the corner”. Cyrus is frozen.