The friends of the wild-haired youth were grinning at him as his high score, which had remained unbeaten all summer, was exceeded by both drivers.
“You’re down to third place!” squealed his annoying younger brother who he was forced to tolerate as a member of his gang under parental duress.
He clipped him round the ear and snarled, “Don’t be cheeky, Jack!”
Turning from the controls, to look him straight in the eyes, the old man softly growled: “You should treat your little brother with more kindness, lad.”
Something in the old man’s scarred face and tone filled him with an odd mixture of shame and fear, and quietened the crowd too.
“Yessir, I will,” he whimpered sheepishly, as he reflexively bowed his head.
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