[You can't actually see Gabriel... Just the weirdly classy (and by "classy," it looks like something ripped off the set of "Boogie Nights") apartment that is not so much an apartment as some random friggin' building he repurposed the interior of through abuse of angel magic, because that's how he rolls. When he speaks, it's offscreen.]
Okay, so. I
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Guess that means you fail out of the swimsuit competition by default, huh? Hope your pageant mom isn't too distraught that her son's never going to be man enough to wear a skirt and fight for his honor.
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Nah, ever since I failed to make it to the cheerleader nationals she's given up on me. Sad, but that's the life--I was too soft-hearted to make it to the big league.
Hey if you're hosting mini-skirt justice tryouts though, I'll be a judge--women's section only.
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And now that you've passed that banter test- name's Gabriel.
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