"It's me." Dustin stepped forward.

The well-dressed, portly man gave him a look over and asked, "Do you understand the rules in here yet?"

"What rules?" Dustin asked.

"Everyone needs to get a beating when they first arrive. Naturally, I'm the one who determines how heavy the beating will be. Got it?" The well-dressed, portly man made a point to tap his baton.

"So, you want money?" Dustin raised an eyebrow.

"Smart boy!" The other man nodded, pleased.

"My men and I have to take care of trash like you every day. So we deserve that much, don't we?" He rubbed his fingers greedily.

"Sorry. I don't have any money." Dustin shook his head.

"You don't have any money?" The well-dressed, portly man frowned and snapped, "Then write a letter to your

family to ask for money! Your punishment will be lighter the more you pay."

"I come from a poor family. We don't have any money." Dustin shrugged.

"Fuck, you're just a hobo! What a waste of my time!" the well-dressed, portly man spat.