by truant_shinobi
It was day like any other day in this decrepit little town. Dark and humid, with the faint stench of bad liquor.
And it was never a good day when I woke up to that phone call. You know the one. When your gut is telling you to stay in bed, but you get up anyway.
Been a while, Ferguson.
And that feeling just gets worse the later the day gets...
I see you're still fat.
I see you're still impotent.

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