[As the PCD comes on, Gabriel massages his forehead with the exasperation of someone whose limitless patience got used up ages ago. He has a whiskey decantur in front of him. He also has the remains of at least ten dead soldier Sweet 'n' Low packets.
....It's best not to imagine where said sweetener met its end. Suffice to say, no one besides
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So who put arsenic in your punch this time? Is it Adstringendum's new Nightmare or did I miss yet another megalomaniac supervillain?
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Didja miss the two in the middle between the horse and my brother?
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Dunno? Which ones are you talking about?
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[Why, yes, this is the most relevant comment you will hear all day.]
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[Take that as you will.]
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[Which he knows she is, but humor him.]
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...What did you do to your drink?
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Why should she have put sugar in mine?
And why did you do so to yours?
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[Gabriel's gives no fucks face is at full charge.] My blood sugar's low and I need alcohol to cope with this place. I multitask.
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