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Bugs in the bathroom? Poor bastard, Michael was glad he didn't get bathroom duty. Goddamn, Michael hated bugs. He hated spiders most of all, but all bugs are fucking terrible. Well, except honey bees, those are pretty cool, they actually do shit. But shit like mosquitoes and flies could fuck off. Do nothing but spread malaria and get eaten by spiders, which coincidentally, spiders only eat other bugs that do nothing but spread disgusting shit. It's like damn God, couldn't you think of something a bit less redundant? Out of the seven days it took, the one with the bugs must have been his writer's block. Michael wasn't going to ask him about it right now though, he had a long fulfilling life in front of him, regardless of what those gas mask wearing fuck-sticks told him.

The wet plopping noises were getting on his nerves now. There wasn't much good stuff here to use. Most of the bottles were empty, or were so molded that putting it on a cut would cause your dick to rot off. So really, there wasn't good stuff at all, just useless shit. Guess on this one he was SOL. Michael opened the crate next to the shelves.

Well whaddya know. There was still vodka. The edible nail polish remover that people most commonly of Slavic nationality consume. Michael picked up various bottles, before he heard Jerry mention something about a broomstick. "Nah man! I got you a table leg!" Michael called back. "Smaller, and just as good of a hit!" A broomstick was just too long to reliably use. Maybe if we had a kni- oh shit the shock knife! Well... we've got nothing to connect the two. Actually, we don't even need to connect the shock knife! Michael had an axe, he could sharpen that shit! Damn, we might not have guns, but we got enough shit to go Far Cry on some motherfuckers. "Aaaaactually, hold onto that broom for a moment!"

Looking back at the vodka bottles, they were barely empty. Just a shot or two at most if you combined what they all had together. Well, damn. There isn't nothing in here worth dragging along outside of toilet paper and a few improvisational. Yep, he was shit out of luck it seems. Eh, maybe he could use one of the bottles to throw and distract someone? Fuck it, he'll come back later if he has to. Michael closed the box back up.

"Store room's fuckin' empty, wouldn't order the fish and chips here if I were you." Michael walked back into the main room, scratching his head. "I think we got everything here, but if we stay a little longer, I could probably make that broomstick into a damn javelin or some shit; whittle it down to a point, y'know?" In terms of weapons and commodities, they did all right, now it was just a hope of if the first aid kits had enough in them to keep them from dying from tetanus.
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We pissin' our pants yet? · The Pub