𝐯 - 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞

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~ You have a tendency to make jokes at the wrong times ~

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~ You have a tendency to make jokes at the wrong times ~


"Holy crap, is that . . . ?" Mike trails off as you stare up at Beverly where she floats in midair. Your eyes widen and you take a few steps forward.

"Oh my God," you whisper, stepping around so you can see her side profile. Without hesitation or thought, you cup your hands around your mouth and shout up at her lifeless body, "Yo, you got a fatty!"

Mike slowly turns to you, the stank eye that he gives you stronger than the stench of sewer that floats in the air.

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