Picked up unceremoniously by his scruff, Damien cried out for anything. But after a short while Wilford angrily slammed his hand over the baby's mouth, muffling the cries and gaining some dirty looks from other couples or passersby.

"Why won't you just shut up?!" Wilford screamed as he sat down in the driver's seat of his late girlfriend, the baby in his lap. He revved up the engine and sped out of the parking lot, his rage burning brighter within him every second that passed by. By the time he had gotten home he was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white, and by the looks of it, wanted to burst out of their sockets.

"Pregnant. The audacity! And didn't tell me at all!" He screamed, his fist breaking loose of its wheel-frozen prison, smashing itself against the horn, the car beeping into the night sky. "What a fucking WHORE!" All the while the baby continued to cry, louder and louder. "SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU GOD FORSAKEN MISTAKE!" Neighbors living near Wilford started to turn on their lights to see what all the commotion was about. Before anything else could happen, Wilford picked up Damien and stormed inside.

Wilford looked around for anything to set the baby in; eventually he found a pet cage he used to use for dove releasing during some of his earlier shows, and without any hesitation, stuffed Damien into the cage, locking it tight.

Wilford stared menacingly into the cage at the baby's chocolate brown eyes, his own brown eyes seething with rage.

"You better be fucking worth something when you're older."

And with that, he stood up and walked off angrily to his bedroom to get what little sleep was to be awaiting him this night.