We can say what we will about Flint, and I’ve said my share, but the world knows his name, they know him. And his body swinging over the harbor of this place sends a powerful message. No one surrenders to a dying thing. And that’s exactly what we’ll be if we don’t act.
One day Flint just decided that a tiny ponytail is still a good ponytail.
He fetched a hair band and put up his hair and then gave himself a smoulder in the mirror.
Meg's Mumbles 