First of all, the last time we saw and heard from Utopia she was sitting in a corner, hugging her knees, steadily rocking and silently weeping—literally bored to tears.
She was muttering, Would somebody please throw a racial slur, or disrupt the queue or, please, can somebody tell Amber her butt looks big in those jeans?
We turned away.
She paused mid-rock and sniffled out a final, Please?
