A short blast of laughter burst from Dumas’s throat.  “Big and strong enough to throw you in the monster’s path while I make my getaway” he joked.  “But feel free to put me in your show sometime.  Although, I have to warn you, I can’t promise any fancy sword fights.  That’s not exactly how we did things in the military.”<br/><br/>Dumas’s attitude about White was actually more complicated than most people assumed.  Yes, some of White’s more foppish tendencies aroused feelings of disdain (often bordering on disgust).  But there was also a strong undercurrent of envy.  Sometimes Dumas didn’t enjoy being perceived as a thug.  Sometimes he compared himself to White and played the game of ‘Maybe’.  Maybe if he’d received enough education to get a job that didn’t involve physical intimidation, maybe if he possessed refined manners and could speak eloquently...maybe people would stop looking at him like a time bomb waiting to go off.<br/><br/>And, of course, the fact that White was Chester’s favorite plaything didn’t make Dumas like him any better.<br/><br/>“I mean, seriously.  Who does White think he is?  Fucking Zorro?”  Wielding an imaginary rapier, Dumas pretended to thrust and parry.  “Oooh, look at me, everybody!  I’m a pirate.”