He's not sure why he's here. He couldn't get drunk if he tried these days. And yet he has a beer. Even if it tastes metallic. Like all his food does lately
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"Yes, I guess I am very lucky. No kittens. And no one will add 'kitten killer' to the list of things I am this week." He sips at the beer, and sure enough it tastes like tin foil.
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"How am I lucky? I would love to know."
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