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Don't cast aspersions on my asparagus.
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"I mean, it's gonna end up in my belly anyway," he responded, pausing for a few seconds between words to ravenously stuff another egg between his lips. He bit down prematurely, and half of the egg tumbled down into his lap. He furrowed his brow, swallowed the other half, and reached down and plopped it in his mouth. All this without more than a second thought.

Whether Bradley didn't know he was violating social norms, or whether he knew and didn't care, was an open question to the outside world. Bradley liked to keep it that way. Aura of mystery, y'know. Chicks dig that. Bradley was sure historians would debate this question for eons to come. Not like they'd have anything better to do.

"So don't really care how I treat it." As if to make his point, he viciously stabbed the peas. More of them ended up on the floor than on the prongs of the fork, but that is the price you pay for rhetorical power. It was true. Bradley saw little need for table manners or farm animal welfare. As long as stuff got from the farm to the belly, whoopdedoo.

"Yeah, school's pretty fucking boring, you're not voicing a controversial opinion there mate," Bradley continue, tearing each pea off the prongs of the fork in turn. "Who needs to know the President of Uzbekibekibekistanstan, you know?"

Once again, it was an open question if Bradley was agreeing, or mocking.
V7 peeps:
Nick Ogilvie
Ashlynn Martinek
Bill Winlock
Camille Bellegarde

V6 peeps:
Kiziah Saraki
Bradley Floyd
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