[Sam is sitting on the bed in a white t-shirt, but the outlines of something hard, metal and shiny is clearly visible underneath the stretched fabric. He does not look happy, staring at the camera. Sam's poor life. He tugs on the shirt once or twice because, this is really not comfortable at all. But it beats sitting here wearing nothing but that
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Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam. I wish I could take credit for this, but, uh... That's not a look I ever wanted to see on you. [He's trying so hard not to snort.
Okay, not hard enough. SO MUCH LAUGHTER.]
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I didn't think it was. It's not flashy enough for you.
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'Course if you two mooks ever listened to half the crap I say, I wouldn't have to keep making you suffer... Well, not as much, anyway. Guy's gotta have a hobby, boys.
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