"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"
Trud threw a tantrum like a child—or rather, a brat—as he kept beating Jeff, now not just with his bare hands but with a baseball bat.
Meanwhile, his henchmen, Henry and Francis, just kept watching, sitting behind Trud while enjoying beer and snacks.
"Ugh..."
Though Jeff had started to groan from the pain of the darkening bruises all over his body and a few broken bones, especially his ribs, his will didn't break; he continued to endure the pain.
"You leave me no choice, you fucking bastard," Trud said after landing another full swing of his bat squarely on Jeff's head.
While Jeff bled from his mouth with his hands chained as he hung listless, Trud caught his breath, taking a break to explain what he planned to do next now that he had no way to contact Jess.
"I should have brought her here long ago and fucked her like the others."
"Isn't that what we're always telling you, boss?"
"You don't need to be her boyfriend to fuck her."
"Shut up!"
