My son... my little boy... I buried him today.
What did he do? Join a protest? And now they're labeling him a traitor. Fine. I'll show them what a traitor does. I've joined them, the rebels, the rioters. They gave me a gun, some bullets, and a mission. I won't survive this, but neither will they.
How many other fathers and mothers like me are out there? It's only a matter of time before the city falls. Let's go knock out the first brick.