[ Jesse impassively watches Jack struggle to reach for his shoes. The state Jack is in doesn't faze Jesse. Hell, it wasn't that long ago back home that Jesse's house turned into an endless partying den of filth for smackheads and crackheads and drunks and hobos just like Jack, sprawled all over Jesse's living room floor, festering in their own drunk, methed out filth. With an even sigh, however, he stoops down to gather up Jack's shoes for him. ]
At least tell me you remember where you live so I know which front door to roll your drunk ass through.
no subject
At least tell me you remember where you live so I know which front door to roll your drunk ass through.