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"The fuck you mean you don't know? It's a yes or no question, Alvaro. Like shit, you either shot your gun or you didn't; what is it?"

Alvaro didn't know. Didn't know?!? What in the fuck? How blitzed in the fucking skull you gotta be to not know if you shot anyone. Jesus Christ, it's like... fuck man. Michael knew BGLMS hit people pretty hard, but this shit is fucking ridiculous. Durr I don't know if I kill anybody, hyuk hyuk huh-durrr.

Then there was the shit he said about taking Maria's blade. Outwardly, he kept his cool, kept his poker face slash I'ma fukkin' keel you stare. Inwardly...

He was mentally giggling like a maniac, even moreso when Maria told Al off. Michael honestly hoped Alessio tried. That'd give him the advantage-

The moment Al walked to take the sword, Michael would grab him, kick his ax to Maria, and hold Al hostage. They'd back out with Alvaro unable to shoot his buddy, then plan an ambush if he decided to follow. Everything would turn out alright in the end.

Of course it was too good to be true, Alessio was a lil' pussybitch to the core. Alvaro would be too, without that big ass Uzi staring them down. Fuckin' Al-team, we're hot shit until we lose it, then we're shit. Fuckin' chucklefuck squad.

His eyes trailed on Al as he took one of the water bottles. Spat out blood. His blood. That was his blood he just so callously spit out on the fuckin' ground. The torn skin was still there, he hadn't even wiped it off yet; the sick fuck...

"You uhh- you got a lil' somethin' on your face..."

Michael pointed to his lower lip. Al fuggin' ignored him and shuffled the fuck out like his pants were so full of shit they weighed him down. Hell, he probably did shit, the fuckin' coward. Bitey coward fucking biter, fuckin' biting me you friggen- aaaaauugh. Michael was at a point that he couldn't describe how pissed he was with the English language. He'd need to learn a new language to fully show how pissed off he was about the biting ordeal.

Relax fucker... breath... You get this pissed now, you might get yourself and Maria killed. Don't do nothing stupid...

He turned back to Alvaro.

"Whatever, don't matter. Fat cat on the announcements will tell me all I needa' hear."

He felt some foreboding feeling moving it's way up his chest. Something told him Alvin and the fuckmunk wanted more that just his bag. His arm reached out and touched one of the nearby metal doors. He was sure he could use it as a temporary cover if everything went tits up. He disguised it as leaning on the door.

"So... That's all, then?"

He gave a half-assed car dealership salesman smile towards him.
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70's Horror Movies 2: New Wave Massacre · Intensive Care Wards