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“Do you want some chocolate? I got M&M's--" "What? Why would I want chocolate?" "It cheers people up." Hollywood took out a plastic baggie full of bright and cheerful little UFOs. "Here--" V batted the calories away. "Yeah, you can fuck off with that." “Why? It has that chemical that simulates the feeling of falling in love.” Rhage opened the bag’s top. “Fritz puts them in a Ziploc for me because sometimes the regular packaging breaks open when I’m in the field. I hate chocolate in pockets, all melty. It’s like putting your hand in poop—” “Oh, my fucking God, please stop talking—” “—except you can eat it, of course.” — J.R. Ward
Do you want some chocolate? I got M&M's--"
"What? Why would I want chocolate?"
"It cheers people up." Hollywood took out a plastic baggie full of bright and cheerful little UFOs. "Here--"
V batted the calories away. "Yeah, you can fuck off with that."
“Why? It has that chemical that simulates the feeling of falling in love.” Rhage opened the bag’s top. “Fritz puts them in a Ziploc for me because sometimes the regular packaging breaks open when I’m in the field. I hate chocolate in pockets, all melty. It’s like putting your hand in poop—”
“Oh, my fucking God, please stop talking—”
“—except you can eat it, of course.