Thermos Rights

Kevin, now re-reading the suspected rapist's note, is a one of the pop journalists who makes a living in the Circle District. He is a member of several friend groups. That's not saying much, though, because retaining multiple memberships isn't hard--you just have to stay the whole shift enough times to earn a place at the front, and bring your own interview pad so you don't keep asking to borrow somebody else's stuff.

I wouldn't have minded Kevin picking up the thermos and opening it except a. I'd thrown it through the window myself (even though our Democratic Action Code insists who throws the thermos doesn't matter) and b. I don't think Kevin is a good journalist--he has "hand issues," won't shake strangers' hands, and doesn't drink at all, and his writing comes off as unspoiled and irresolute as Kevin himself.

So I did what you do in a friend group when you feel a lead has been unrightly scooped up by a lesser friend in the same group. I challenged him to a duel.

There is a traditional way to initiate a duel with somebody who has no talent--before showing him or her your Tags or performing the "I got your nose" gesture, you must first provide your opponent with the chance to avoid humiliation by backing off what's yours. You repeat the line one sees pop up so many times in the corner of the screen in emails from an online mentor who has reviewed your work: "I don't think you're ready for this one."