“Fuckin’ kids, dude! They took me clothes ‘en now wha’ am I meant to do? It’s damn laundry day ‘en those motherfuckers are gonna pay.”
“Wha’re ye going t'do, waggle tha’ pasty prick a’ them? Oh yeah tha’ll do i’ mentally scar th'li'le bastards why donnae ye?” Scoffing lightly the former gunrunner slipped out of her sweater and tossed it to the man. “Wha’ kind'o numpty does laundry in th'buff?”
