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Quad's boyfriend: (Looks AP up and down, from his South Pole jeans to his unsightly mammaries) Hey big man, you real funny on the boards. A regular Eddie Murphy. You been gettin real "Eddie Murphy on Sunset Blvd after midnight" in my man's inbox, too. Yeah. I saw that. Hilarious. Aye so check it, lemme talk to you outside real quick.
AP: (In some unintelligible Geechee dialect) Less go, Ah reckon.
*Door slams behind them*
b.touch: Ruh-Roh!
Mochalox: (Wringing her hands) Oh dear oh dear oh dear, this is not good. I should call AP's mother. Does anyone have her number?
FishGrease: Yeah, I got her number: It's 1-800-Don't Come Back, I Done Changed The Locks! Now cut my baby Tweet back on and let that hummingbird sang. Speaking of, who wants to hum on this cat daddy's ding ding?
Quad's Male Roommate: (Sheepishly raises hand)
MzClayton: *Sigh* I'm so tired of being fine. I'm moving to L.A. for a fresh start and a new avi. Or Chicago. Or maybe Duluth will do...
Alyse: Been There, Done That. Let's Move To NYC, We Can Finally Strike It Rich With a Record Label CEO or Event Planner. And This Time They Won't Be On The DL.
MzClayton: Wow! You promise?
Alyse: No.
*Silence*
Delaney: ...Fuck me NOW!
OrangeNinjaTurtle: Alright
CaseOne: (From the top of the stairs) This is a house of sin and violence! The Living God will smite all who have set foot in this den of iniquity--except for me-- with the same fiery fervor with which Wray burnt this sweet potato pie.
Everybody in unison: Go home, CaseOne!
Wray: Doesn't the bible address trespassing? Is my pie really that bad?
b.touch: Well it DOES have a higher carb content than I would like, considering my longterm fitness goals. And enough filler for a Tyler Perry production.
boogiedwn: Shhhh, Nukka! Of course not, baby. You know I love yo pies.
Abby: Who said Plies? Cause I'm just in one a dem moods, I feel fuckin! Heeeeey! (Does two step)
Nettrice: (Bursts through the door with combat boots and a crazed grin) It smell like ASS EATIN up in here!!
HeavenLei: My God, it's like Harriett Tubman's hair climbed out of the grave and reached us through the Undercombed Rail Road. Phillis Wheatley, is that you?
Quad: (Looking out the window) Baby, he's already on the ground, stop kicking him! His teeth are everywhere! Shawty, all the neighbors are watching! This is all so awful, so wrong, so...MESSY!! (Grins and clicks Create New Post)
Since the reality was anticlimactic due to AP's lack of Greyhound funds, I figure the above will do lol.
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