Link reblogged from Fireland
Jesus Christ.
The goon pats me down and finds the oyster knife taped to my coccyx. “Thought you said you was unarmed,” he says, voice like a broken down retard factory.
“I said that because I didn’t want you to know I had a knife,” I say. “In case I needed to stab you?”
“I thought we was friends.”
“We are…
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