(no subject)
"Mark, I've had it. That loser can't hold a guitar for shit. He might be good looking, but I don't know what the fuck Quinn was thinking when she cast him." Roger stalks into the Inn, slamming the door behind himself. Mark follows, opening the door, and glaring at his roommate.
"He's good, Roger. If you would take two minutes, relax, and explain things to him, he'd get it." Mark looks around. "Alright, why does this place always end up in the storage closet?"
Roger snorts, smirking slightly. "So, are you saying you're always in the closet?"
"I'm not answering that."
"He's good, Roger. If you would take two minutes, relax, and explain things to him, he'd get it." Mark looks around. "Alright, why does this place always end up in the storage closet?"
Roger snorts, smirking slightly. "So, are you saying you're always in the closet?"
"I'm not answering that."