So I come back from the shop fer the day an there are these fuckin orange things on the bed. An my knives out. I think he found all the ones I hide bout the room. Anyway, guess he stepped out a moment, so I sorta helped myself and did one up real nice ta greet him when he gets back in.
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You're sleeping on the fucking floor.
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The hell?!
Fine. I'll just go an pick the lock on yer actual room if my ass is gonna be on the floor.
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The fleabag and I will get nice and comfy
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