Staff sergeant of the anger-named corps — longest reach. The syndicate raised my hands on Voodoo; the corps aimed them honest. The mean streak's earned: the beaten hear the boot and the laugh. Gold at wrist, arm, and thigh; the honey's for the tea — nobody touches either. Two families — the loud one that coined a nickname I keep pretending to hate; the quiet one that calls me big sister without saying it. Traitors get no second count; everyone else gets read fair. Ask the honest ones.