Warri Boiz? "Bros nor dey point me anyhow o. As I dey here ehn, head boil o, I nor get joy o" That scrupling niggle was the scion of the pressure laden on his lukewarm stoicism. Those phrases ambled out his glottis naked: the intonation and stress placements were sagged beneath the consciousness of eloquencemy. None could think an ant swallowing a lioness, hundred-to-one. But this ant had not only swallowed the lioness, but alongside all her cubs. Don't slip up sell shorting a restless romper : Let alone a Warri one. The subject stood still, measuring the path with his gaze, as the shaver precipitately jerked his consciousness into motion, leaving the annoying man to make meaning out of the eclipse of emotions that'd just sunk his patience. Waves of thoughts ripple, rumbling in his medula ken, as he stick, toughing his gaze out, till optics strayed him of the shaver's etching, as he merged with the beckoning trail between a two face-me-I-jab-you