Jason
The Tollidos ain't shit.
Honestly, I ain't shit either but if we're comparing shits I'm Mary Slessor.
I still don't know what she sees in me, despite the fact that I ain't shit, quite frankly, I still can't believe she's standing right next to me, letting me hold her hand while I burn a fucking hole the size of a football stadium in the skull of Gerald Tollido.
Gerald. Fucking. Tollido.
We go way back, even before we became enemies competing for who was the best driver at the Jaguar.
The motto isn't Only The Swiftest Survive for nothing.
In order to be on top of your game, you have to be fast and you have to be furious. The amount of times I've wiped Gerald's ass on the floor with a mop before he could realize what hit him shows who is clearly the Dominic Toretto in our war.
