George was sitting alone in the bunkhouse, crying. He was sad because Lennie got shot (by him).
Slim appeared quietly at the door; he was wearing red lipstick and he leaned forward, exposing his voluptuous chest like the little manwhore he is.
George turned to face Slim and gasped
"W-w-w-w-what are y-y-you doing h-here?!"
"I live here." Slim smirked and grabbed George's face.
"Why so sad baba grill?" Slim frowned, focusing his big, brown eyes on George.
"Lennie died." George sobbed, burying his head in Slim's mighty manboobs. "I shot him, it's my fault Lennie is dead."
"Hush, kitten. Lennie would have wanted you to kill him."
"No I didn't" said ghost of Lennie "Kinda rude ngl. I ain't got no rabbits here; an Aunt Clara's being real mean, saying I should've been more careful with that nice young lady I killed-" (No one can hear him bcz he is a ghost.)
"I just wish the sadness would go away. I lost a part of myself, the day he died. I know I can never be the same without him, he was my best friend; I loved him more than anyone and I wish I could've made him see that.
I wake up every morning and go about my day as if nothing ever happened but I can never shake him from my mind, no matter how hard I try.
Everything reminds me of him- of our dream- we could've had a real good life together, Slim. Fuckin' real good life, had us a place of our own; it was all Lennie ever wanted. But I know now it'll never happen, not without him." George wiped his tears.
Slim, being an empath, could sense that George was upset, and thought long and hard about what to do next.
"Maybe this will help."
Slim pulled out his 12-inch.
