[ The good news is that Angus has stopped screaming, if only because he's run out of breath. The bad news is that he has his wand drawn and pointed at Kravitz, even if his grip is a little bit shaky. ]

I'm not making a fuss! [ The indignance! ] These are basic self-preservation instincts, I'm eleven, I don't want... to...

[ ... Huh. Wait a minute, those dreadlocks look awfully familiar... Angus narrows his eyes, and lowers the wand slightly. Not much, but hey, it's an improvement? ]

... You're the Pringles guy. From the shop.