En't nothin' gonna drag my ass t'Celo anytime soon in this fuckin' decade.
Tha' old bitch next door finally decided t'have th' guts an' call in th' clowns, trashin' th' entire place an' makin' it unaccesible until five days after they discovered it, leavin' it alone fer awhile.
How th' fuck should I know tha' there's th' fuckin' ARMA behin' my door when I get back from Cena?
Long story short, I didn't. Waltz'd my ass in there like an idiot. So th' next few days foun' myself in a holdin' cell with creeps like me, 'cept some of 'em look worse off an' were doin' their bes' in coughin' up their lungs. Scared t'fuck outta me when one of 'em actually did.
After a nice "chat" in th' interrogation room, I foun' out I'm still "suposedly" dead an' I en't got any ties to no one. Which is fuckin' wonderful fer others, but not me.
Though th' miracle came when I 'membered havin' tha' "deep sleep" pill in th' capsule underneath my skin. Hurt like a motherfucker t'pull it out with my own goddamn teeth.
Was dead in a minute after ingestion an' when I woke up, I foun' myself in a pile of dead bodies left t'rot outside th' prison facilities.
'Sides, Cena's lookin' more beautiful every day with th' white blanketin' th' streets. Kinda dims th' red lights an' make things less dauntin'.
Need t' buy a heavier jacket. Feelin' a cold comin' on.
Fuck.