Ephraim Winslow:
Goddamn your farts! You smell like piss, you smell like jism, like rotten dick, like curdled foreskin, like hot onions fucked a farmyard shit house. And I'm sick of your smell. I'm sick of it! I'm sick of it, you goddamned drunk. You goddamned no-account, son-of-a-bitch-bastard liar! That's what you are! You're a goddamned drunken, horse-shitting, short, shit liar. A liar!
Thomas Wake:
Ye have a way with words, Tommy.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:01
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