"You're apologizing to me, huh! Sukrucuk is apologizing to me!"
I swear to God, we've fought side-by-side all this time, and even I was hearing it for the very first time. It was natural for Murtaza to be shocked, but when he lowered the massive mace in his hands, we were all just as shocked as he was. Murtaza, with a neck thicker than a four-lane highway, was smashing the last stubbornly resisting pieces of his wrecked bagel cart to absolute smithereens.
Just like street vendors who, realizing the municipal cops are about to confiscate their goods, trash their own merchandise and turn their rebellion into a theatrical show—just like the rebellion of a man who's constantly told 'the mayor is coming, pack it up,' 'the mayor is coming, get out of here'—our Murtaza went completely wild. Every single strike was as heavy as a curse hurled straight at the mayor's parents.
