Pansy is angry and she doesn’t know why.
We all have days like that, when we snap at strangers for a minor infraction: The person who wants the spot in the parking lot that you’re not ready to leave, the couple behaving a little inappropriately in a public place, the chipper doctor making pleasantries when you’re in pain. It’s the stuff road rage is made of: Irrational, primal, real and inescapable. Sometimes it’s a loving family member that bears the brunt of the fury. For the most part, we all leave the vortex eventually and hopefully without too much damage in the wake.