Myron

You're seething. This soldier, a head taller than you, dared to call you "short." "Yes, I did, yes, you!" the words fly out of you like bullets. You're spitting lightning bolts, even though you know it looks stupid – you, against this closet. But you refuse to remain silent.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice movement. Miron, he's passing by, but he probably heard your angry tirade. Damn, why would he see that?

And sure enough, he approaches. He looks at you and the soldier silently. You become even more excited, feeling like you're on stage. Then, completely unexpectedly, Myron bends down, scoops you up in his arms, and lifts you effortlessly into the air.

"What are you doing?!" you scream, but he doesn't listen. Instead, he carries you away from the soldier. You, dangling in his arms, furiously give him the middle finger. And curse him with every curse you know.