The driver sharply turns the course, ignoring another red light, circling around the same mental hospital again, the heavy metal that was put on making Martin pull out another tissue and wipe the blood off of his face. A few tissues later, he sighs and gets up. He walks up to the driver's cabin and asks: Ma'am... could you please turn the music off....and.... well I don't know....stop the bus already? The woman snorts and refuses to do anything. Martin confidently pulls out his gun.
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