Heaven’s Gate Minute by Minute: 171 of 229

14 Feb

171 of 209

If you ever want portray an air of ‘look who’s come crawling back’, the best way to do it is to silently shave. From now on, I’m only accepting apologies while using a cutthroat razor. I’ll be just going about my business and they’ll be all, “Simon, I’m sorry I forgot to return your favourite milking cow and matching armada. Please forgive me!”

I’ll just stare into the mirror and scrape away at my wankerishly trimmed facial hair.

Jim eventually does pipe-up and utters, “I told you so.” That’s a pretty significant burn. Ouch. That’s one above taunting, “Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah” with your tongue out.

I miss my black and white flotilla. Nancy, if you’re reading this, you can keep the cow; just bring me back my fleet of warships. They took a bloody long time to accumulate. I’ll be in the bathroom. Knock before you enter.

 

 

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