How is the kiwi above you in bed?

Just horrible. Wasn't paying attention, and passed out halfway through from all of the various types of drugs he used beforehand.
 
When some wild-eyed, eight-foot-tall maniac grabs your neck, taps the back of your favorite head up against the barroom wall, and he looks you crooked in the eye and he asks you if ya paid your dues, you just stare that big sucker right back in the eye, and you remember what ol' Jack Burton always says at a time like that: "Have ya paid your dues, Jack?" "Yessir, the check is in the mail."
 
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Reactions: Breadquanda.
I don't know what the fuck just happened, but I'm pretty sure it involved some kind of ritual, the woods, and cloaks. I'm not sure if we fucked or if I was cursed.
 
It was electrifying. The next morning, I felt like I had just woken up on Christmas day.
 
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