Hyde is at the bar, in his
Stones shirt and jeans, looking over a mess of eight-tracks and cassettes. His boot is tapping to some invisible beat, and he's smoking. The snark implied in the title has not yet happened, but rest assured it will if you join his thread.
And if that's not a sell, I don't know what is.
She'd sleep there if she could.
"What in Fortune's name are those?" she asks, sliding over a few stools.
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"This thing contains music?"
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"Kelso tries, man, but he doesn't always succeed."
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She knows the type.
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"Kelso's life has been all about trying too hard."
It's funny when friends get hurt.
Even if Shady has no idea what he's talking about, Hyde's entertaining himself.
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"Beer for you?"
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"You need to teach me to steal stuff sometime, Shady. I'll never get started on my life of crime and incarcertaion without a smokin' chick for a teacher, y'know?"
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"Stealing a pouch is quite different than stealing something large. You'll need plans and a good deal of training before I'd let you do any real damage."
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"I've got something to attend to back in my city. I'll be back later tonight, if you're interested."
She's the picture of virtue, really.
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"Yeah, whatever, man. I've got beer, so I'm all set."
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And then she's gone.
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