0009.

[tinsoldiered]

Comments

[tinsoldiered]

Save me, Mike. Or at least come over to play cards.

[gangstermoll]

Dion isn't really my scene, you know?

[tinsoldiered]

And it's mine? You cut me deep.

[ticktocktavi]

Both of you. Out of the house. Poker, Texas-holdem, back room of Madu, one hour. Christ.

[tinsoldiered]

Thank God. I'll be over when I can.

Napoleon can come too, right? No man left behind.

[Private to Mads]
Besides, he sucks at cards.
[Private.]

[ticktocktavi]

When you can? Jesus, Charl, just walk out the door. Save yourself.

Sure, he can tag along. As long as he can handle THE HEAT IN THE KITCHEN.

[tinsoldiered]

I'm going, I'm going. Coat is on. Separating Napoleon from his Nesquik.

...Well. We'll see about that.

[ticktocktavi]

Mate. Tell him it's time to wean him off the tit, or you're leaving without him.

[tinsoldiered]

Done and done. Be over soon.

[ticktocktavi]

Thank whatever-deity's-in-fashion-this-week that you've come to your senses. Cheers.

[gangstermoll]

Gotta give me more than an hour, boss, station showers were broken and your heart's too warm to start without me.

[ticktocktavi]

I

but

I'm trying to save you from yourselves.

[...]

Fine. Dammit.

[gangstermoll]

Oh, myself isn't watching Celine Dion, but it's great stuff what you're trying to do for Charlie.

[ticktocktavi]

Just doing my part to help my community.

Mads

[bonesandbottles]

Wow your friends are fags.

Avery

[ticktocktavi]

They need to have some sodding sense throttled into them. Beating them at cards will do. Is there a massive virus sweeping Taledom that leeches men of their Manhood?

Avery. You paint things for a living and still manage to avoid coming to this.