Peter is being attacked by a criminal. He isn’t worried. I am, but he grins every now and then like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Everyone is a threat to me, no one to him. I attribute it to his hypomania, but my reasoning is likely flawed. He enlists a clone to help him, and an intricate, 3D graphic serves as the logo for the Defense of Peter. I have a tattoo of a Canadian flag on my finger that I regret lying to people about, since I normally say a pineapple on my leg was my first tattoo.