“Excuse me, I’m looking for Donkeron Konglevoss? Is he here? Is that you?”
“Yes, Mister Konglevoss, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve been hoping to speak with you for some time. Yes, I know, it’s a “gentlemen’s matter” between those plumbers, but… well, I guess there’s no easy way to ask this, so I’ll just spit it out. You never WERE a plumber, were you? Based on my research you were, at best, a construction worker.”
“Well, if you don’t want to talk, I can’t force you, but think about this: that blonde girl? The one your former “partner” stole from you? Yeah. She and he broke up. That’s right. He met this princess and dumped her. I’ve got her address. I’ll give it to you. Maybe she wants to see you, even. It’s none of my business what you do with it. It’s right here on this paper.”
“Uh, uh, uh! Not so fast, Konglevoss. I want something in return. I want an interview with your son. That’s right, little Konglevoss Jr. The only one who really knew just what a jerk your former partner can be. I want it on the record with no topic off limits. You get me that, and I’ll give you the address on this piece of paper.”
“But you better hurry, Konglevoss. Because my editor needs something by tomorrow. And you know what tends to happen in this line of work when a countdown clock runs out.”
Wear this shirt: because someone else shrank your Alien 3 t-shirt in the wash.
Don’t wear this shirt: if you love turtles unconditionally.
This shirt tells the world: “There’s no such thing as Lawful Good.”
We call this color: Black Yoshi
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