[The gears of the recorder don't wind up until Kyle is already started on his tirade, his voice near-frantic and dripping with anger.]
"-nt Piano Prodigy," they call it! "Instant Piano Prodigy." If that doesn't translate to "instant end of my career," I don't know what does, because I've just wasted twenty... [He makes a choked sort of noise.] twenty years of my life on something now any schmuck can buy with a drip of ADAM.
I've been thinking long and hard about getting me something to defend myself, some electro-bolt or something. I could've saved, I could've had that kind of money eventually. But no way, not after this. To hell with Fontaine and his futuristics. They aren't getting a dime out of me-- they've taken way too much already.
(Just for reference,
this is me trying to write srs. And
this is the tonic I'm talking about. e_e)