Jake: ((like a woman waits to be made love to, that drink is waiting to be drunk))
Meekins: ( I am so taking notes from you, sir. )
Jake: ((oh god don't get into the metaphor thing Meekins))
Jake: ((...well no, lemme hear you try))
Meekins: ( ahem! your purity is like a withering flower. is this a metaphor sir?)
Jake: ((that's a simile, son))
Jake: ((a
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