[A harsh, sandy kind of sound - that of a rough brush being continuously scrubbed against a surface; muttering in-between. There is a clearly annoyed edge to it.]
Chores, chores - nothing but chores! Geez, why is it always ME? This household is seriously no different than a freakin' pack of wolves --
[The scrubbing is interrupted and a light
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Are are you two complaining of? Keep cleaning, Rin.
As for you, Rip. [She fishes out the cigar box out her coat pocket, empty.] Go fetch me a new one.
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Where was your home address? I wanted to visit.
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