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Viewing Single Post From: Sing A Song Of Sixpence
Rorick Skyve
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He couldn't see, couldn't fucking see a thing. Something in front of his eyes, pressing against his face, something warm. Prolly that fucker's hand. Wanted to bite it, make it go away. He didn't though, instead just threw his head back and forth, tried to shake it off.

They were on the floor now, impact hadn't hurt him much, prolly hurt that fucking weasel way more, fucking deserved. Only the first bit of pain he was about to get, that son of a rancid ass mongrel bitch.

His own hands were clawin' at Bradley's face and neck, tried to get a good hold of him, choke all that fucking grub out of him, together with all of his oh-so-clever bullshit. Squeeze his eyeballs out or something, that fucker needed to fuckin' pay.

Aiden's leg were now intertwined with Bradley's, he was half-sitting on top of the motherfucker, though he barely even registered it. His mind was somewhere else, he was shakin' and trembling with anger and goddamn rage and things needed to die. Why'd he have to be such a fucking midget? Would have been fucking easy wiping the floor with the bastard otherwise.

Fuck it. He was still putting that shit stain down.

One of his hands stopped tugging at Bradley's shirt and went for the side of his head instead, pulling at his hair with full force.

"Fucking...fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!"
Peoples and Sheeples for V6
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Sing A Song Of Sixpence · Memories from the Past