All right, you got us.
On behalf of myself and my suitemates, we accept being defeated, one-upped, outdone, humiliated, and in the modern parlance, PWND. I personally swear that I will not let Marius S.C. Laverne, the mastermind and responsible party for this entire endeavor, coerce me into such an ill-advised venture in the future.
Whose black slip is this, anyway? I'm sure it looks much better on you than me.
JHF
P.S.: In conclusion, totally Marius' idea.
Whose black slip is this, anyway? I'm sure it looks much better on you than me.
JHF
P.S.: In conclusion, totally Marius' idea.
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If I glare at my professor, do you think he'll let me out of class early so I can come home and sleep?
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Nifty aside from the whole being duct-taped to the wall in girls' nightclothes, mind you. An experience I'd not like to repeat.
But they were nice and didn't drag our clothes through the mud or put them in the freezer or anything. Except for running our drawers up the flagpole. They even folded them nicely and left them by our door.
All in all, it could have been a lot worse. Lesson learned.
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And then I had to go save Forge from being exploded. And then there was other stuff! All in all, lots and lots of... I forget what my point was.
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Help someone! I'm having soup forced on me!
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Did glaring work?
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you ahve GOT to be kidding! we don't want to see your nasty ass!