Benjamin Reynolds (_cavendish_) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-08-21 19:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | big tobacco |
Who: Big Tobacco
What: Rambling about Alcohol
Where: Small park in D.C.
When: Saturday Morning, 9ish
Warnings: It's Big T he's always offensive.
"She's messing up my chi, Whitey. Fucking with my divine nature in all the wrong ways. You know what I'm saying?" Big Tobacco leaned forward on the bench, puffing away on a cigar as he watched the joggers around the park. What a bunch of stupid bastards.
The petite child sitting next to him didn't say a word. She never said anything. Merely watched everything with wide brown eyes and a tiny smirk that looked far too old on her four year old face. No, the girl dubbed Whitey never spoke. She didn't need to. Her caretaker did enough talking for a hundred people.
"A thrice damned menace to society and she's gone from wrecking my cars to forging my signature and handing blank checks to animal rights groups. I love fur, Whitey. Love the feel of endangered snow leopard fur between my toes in the morning. It's my right as an American to have dead animals carpeting my floor!"
Not a peep. Not a sound. Whitey continued to swing her feet and think about breakfast instead.
"Yeah, I knew you'd get it." Big Tobacco patted the child on the head, handing her the rest of his cigar to finish off.
One of the joggers stopped and gawked.
"What the fuck are you looking at? GET BACK TO RUNNING TOWARDS THAT HEART ATTACK YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE ANYWAY YOU BOX OF GRAPE NUTS!"