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25 ways to make money penny hoarder

datatime: 2022-11-30 19:30:50 Author:NhcPJMli

The last thing Chub heard before blacking out was Bodean Gazzer bellowing: "Hey, I changed my mind! You kin let him die! Go 'head and let the asshole die!"

Chub exerted himself to make a sneer. "You muss be some kind a nigger-lover."

Craning his head, Chub saw it was attached to a striped, sand-caked body that could not possibly be his. The cock, for example, was puckered to the size of a raspberry; definitely not a millionaire's cock.

"Good question," the woman said.

"-and you're about the dumbest, smelliest critter I ever saw," the woman said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I thought I'd buy me a Cadillac or two," JoLayne said, "and a giant-screen color TV."

Chub was too weak to hit her. He wasn't even a hundred percent sure he'd heard it right. Delirium slurred his senses.

Chub was too weak to hit her. He wasn't even a hundred percent sure he'd heard it right. Delirium slurred his senses.

"Try to clean this messy gunshot and stop your bleeding."

"Why can't you jes answer me straight."

Another agitated voice. Sounded like Bode Gazzer. "For God's sake, Chub, shut up! She's only trying to save your life, you stupid fuck!"

"No, but I work in a doctor's office. An animal doctor-"

Craning his head, Chub saw it was attached to a striped, sand-caked body that could not possibly be his. The cock, for example, was puckered to the size of a raspberry; definitely not a millionaire's cock.

"And maybe a watermelon patch!"

"Whatcha gone do with all that lottery money, nigger?"

"Jesus Willy Christ!"

"Well, I thought I'd buy me a Cadillac or two," JoLayne said, "and a giant-screen color TV."

"Don't you talk down to me."

"And maybe a watermelon patch!"

"You ain't no doctor," Chub said to her.

"Don't you talk down to me."

Had to be a nightmare is all, a freak-out from the boat glue. That must be how come the nigger girl looks 'zackly like the one they'd robbed upstate, the one clawed the shit outta us with those hellacious electric-looking fingernails.

"Don't you talk down to me."

JoLayne Lucks couldn't do it.

"You heard the man." It was the white guy, holding the Remington. "He wants to bleed out. You heard him, JoLayne."

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