slushy curse


“I want a slushy the second we get out of this place,” I demanded, “this is bullshit.”
“Frank,” she hissed, smacking my arm with the wicked backhanded swing that she had mastered over the years, numbing the entire left hand side of my body. Good thing her swing wasn’t nearly as bad as dad’s. “Who taught you to talk like that? Never ever talk like that, and if I ever hear you say that again… blah blah blah… blah blah…”

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