Get out. Get out of here. If anybody poisoned the waterhole it was certainly you. Put the squish of your smile away Why sheaf the knife in a lipsticked rictus if it's going to end up in my back all the same? Oh, spare me the theatrics. If you only mean me harm I'd rather know. So that I can curtsey and take the high road. Mentor, if you taught me anything during that winter it was not to be weak. And so you have my best regards. And now you may get out.