[It was whiskey, and not as cheap as she was used to, so it had a nicer burn than the Wild Turkey she bought and stashed around her apartment back home. But, this wasn't home. And there'd be no more late nights stumbling home from the bar or crashing on her couch because fuck the bed being too far away. This bottle, so far, didn't seem to have any other effects on it. Bully for them.]
At least you're not a fucking ninja. I swear to god, if I run into one more karate nut...
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At least you're not a fucking ninja. I swear to god, if I run into one more karate nut...