Chat 8: Special Guest

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"can i get a happy meal please" jimin tells the cashier across from him.

"sir we havent sold happy meals ever since the war"

"damn that sux" jimin sighed. "can i get some fucking pipe cleaner then"

He handed her tree fiddy dollars and headed to a seat right next to the window, like a fucking emo.

The rain was pounding heavily against the cold, dark asphalt. He watched as the water poured into the sewage drains nearby, how mesmerizing.... Feeling inspired, he wanted to write a poem right there, yeah, a poem! He'd become a poet, and be world renowed, and have a book! many books! with poems in them! Yes, yes, Yes!!!!! He took out a pen, and started writing hastily on a piece of paper;

 Feeling inspired, he wanted to write a poem right there, yeah, a poem! He'd become a poet, and be world renowed, and have a book! many books! with poems in them! Yes, yes, Yes!!!!! He took out a pen, and started writing hastily on a piece of paper;

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He gently folded the paper and placed it in his pocket. Genius.

"Number 45?" the cashier lady called out. That was his number! Jimin got up and walked over to receive his sustenance.

"Here you go, sir"

"Thank- Woah, wait a second, where have I've seen you before?" said Jimin.

The lady shrugged her shoulders. "Me? Well, I wouldn't know." She said, chuckling a bit.

"May I ask you your name?"

"Sure thing," the woman smiled. "the name's Ariana. Ariana Grande."

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