i'm not your friend. i don't give a shit about you. you're just a nobody, nothing, punk-ass kid.
ind. bullet of amc's the killing.
private as hell. low activity.

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    well maybe if you ate a little more  greens  ‘n a little less  processed cholesterol with a side of diabetes,   you’d be on my level.   

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❛     man,  whatever !    i was in a freakin’ coma for weeks ‘n bein’ fed through one of them  tubes  ‘n you still gonna harp on me about my diet ?    that ain’t even  right,  yo.     ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    do what you gotta do,   bullet.          cigarette flicked away as he starts down the street.    if he’s surprised at the way she’s still dogging at his heels,   he doesn’t show it.    what she does on her own time is out of his hands,   but that’s hard to reconcile with the part of him that feels  responsible.       ‘     yup.    caught a case and the new LT’s been ridin’ my ass about all that  pied piper  paperwork.    like linden says    —    clock never stops.    

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feels like she should say something,  but can’t find the right words.    maybe there  aren’t  any  right words.    maybe there’s just  white noise,  transmitted into a half - assed explanation that doesn’t even make sense.     ❛     what’s the case ?    you got any juicy details ?     ❜     she shouldn’t be asking,  but she does it anyway,  prying  for information with her fingers crossed that he’ll forget about the money.

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    just ‘cause you  said it  don’t make it true.          he has forty on him,   twenties and tens.    he knows she’ll need more before the week is out    —    especially if she isn’t taking hand - outs from  dad  anymore.    fully expecting to regret it,   he gives her a twenty.       ‘     go get shit - drunk or whatever the hell it is you’re spendin’ this on.    i got places to be.     ’

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he’s right.    and she’s willing to  bet  he knows that,  more than he’s letting on.    hesitates before snatching the bill out of his hand and shoving it in her pocket,  head down.    she can’t look him in the eye when she’s milking his paycheck for booze and drugs.    makes her feel like  shit.     ❛     it ain’t like that.     ❜     but it is.     ❛     …  you goin’ t’ work ?     ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    what,   you actually tried callin’ ‘em ?    and he didn’t pick up ?          it could be the truth.    or,   just as easily,   it could be a load of bullshit.    wouldn’t be the first time she pulled some kind of quick and dirty  manipulation tactic  on him.    (   but if she wants to get loaded,   she’ll find a way    —    with or without his help.   )       ‘     if i find out you’re makin’ this up,   i will  beat  your skinny ass,   you feel me ?    

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❛     that’s what i said,  ain’t it ?    ❜     and it wouldn’t be far from the truth,  if she had actually picked up the phone and dialed.    (    or maybe it would have been a stretch.    she wouldn’t know because she hasn’t bothered to give anyone a call,  least of all her overbearing parents.     )     ❛     give it to me or don’t,  yo.    i ain’t got  time  to pinky swear.     ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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go figure    —    she smells like a fucking dive bar.    flame sparks as he lights up a cigarette.       ‘     you  lyin’  to me right now ?    if you’re  hungry,   i’ll pick somethin’ up.    i ain’t’cha damn ATM machine.    

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she keeps a level head.    surprising,  taking into account the fact that he’s the only source of  income  she has at the moment.    on second thought,  though,  hustling  some unsuspecting  sap  might have taken less time.     ❛     dad ain’t been answerin’ my  calls.    he used t’ send me money whenever i needed it,  but i guess he’s all bent outta shape about this…  custody  bullshit.    whatever.    forget it.     ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    what happened to those  five bills  i gave you friday night ?    what,   you blow through all that on double cheeseburgers ?    don’t  play  me,   bullet.          @junkyardteen.

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booze happened.    a little bit of pot.    poochie isn’t handing out  freebies  anymore.    treats her like clientele.     ❛     the hell is this,  an interrogation ?    girl’s gotta eat,  yo !    just le’me get  fifteen  ‘n i’ll be outta your hair.     ❜    and back again in forty - eight hours.     ❛     ––––    c’mon,  man.     ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    naw,   for real !    yo,   check my medical records !    ain’t even caught the  sniffles  since ronald  reagan  was sittin’ in the oval office.    you don’t gotta be jealous.    it ain’t a good color on you.    ’

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❛     you’re so full of shit.    nobody’s  immune system is  that good  in this cold ‘n rainy  hellscape  of a city.    ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    i don’t  catch  colds.    matter of fact,   i don’t get sick.    immune system’s like  alcatraz    —    ain’t nothin’ gets past these walls.   my body’s my temple.    

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❛     you  hear  that ?    sounds like a crock of bullshit.    bet yo’ no alka seltzer - havin’ ass won’t be sayin’ that shit when you’re laid up in bed soundin’ like a clogged  drain.     ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    yo,   whatever.    least i didn’t  drown my hamster.    you got any more  confessions  i should know about ?    birds keelin’ over,   guinea pigs who up ‘n disappeared    —    ?          he’s still messing with her.    actually started to consider getting her a dog,   for good measure ;   nothing like a set of teeth and claws to deter assholes from making a move.       ‘     i mean,   if you need a  lawyer    –––––––    

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❛     me neither,  asswipe !    hamsters ain’t  supposed  t’ get wet.    they got these oils in their fur that keep ‘em  happy ‘n healthy.    they’re small ‘n catch colds real easy,  too,  which is what happened t’ meatball ‘n what’s  gonna  happen t’ you if you don’t shut’cha  face !    let meatball rest in peace.     ❜

ORIGINALGRILLA.

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    listen ‘n learn,   grasshopper.          an expert on  ribbing,   evidently.    everything with potential value is open for debate.          so what happened,   you leave him in there too long ?   he catch a cold ?    don’t beat yourself up    —    i had like  fifteen fish  die on my watch when i was a wee one.    

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❛     –––––     eat me.     ❜     five years later and bullet still jumps to the defense over meatball.    she  does  feel bad about it,  though.    (    always has.    )    that frosty exterior isn’t fooling anyone.     ❛     …  that on record ?    ‘cause i’m pretty sure cps might have somethin’ t’ say about it.    stupid motherfucker can’t even  keep a fish alive  ‘n we’re trusting him with a kid ?    that’s what they’ll say,  yo.    bet !     ❜