Marta:
I thought I was gonna die, Stephen. I've never been so scared in all my life. I had to steal some poor dead fucker's car with his fucking ashes still in it, thank you very much. Drive myself up here, alone, hoping and praying that one of those vigilante alcoholics you call neighbors will have the simple human decency to let me through... God, I need a drink! Wine, Drano, anything.
Stephen:
I think I have some cooking sherry.
Marta:
Well, you know how to party.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:24
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