Ohh, the pain. I’m here taking bullets for your vault, but by all means, complain about too much french toast.
and here i was going to share with you, but now.
hey, you accepted this job on your own volition, sweetheart, so don’t come crying to me. and don’t act like you’re doin’ me a frickin’ favor– i am paying you, buttloads of cash, remember?
I really doubt you were going to share with me. I’m not /crying/, I’m complaining. You know, that thing you do every five minutes?
you’re right, i wasn’t, but only because you’re a goddamn stick in the mud. seriously, live a little, athena!! also i’m the boss, i’m allowed to complain.
I’ve lived for nearly thirty years now, but thanks for your concern.
pssh yeah– boringly. seriously, what do you even do for fun– or are you like, fun-deficient. i’m sure i could get someone in R&D to fix that. i mean. if you want.
oooor you could just come to one of my parties like everyone else on helios and do something wild for a change, like, gee, i dunno– enjoy yourself.
I’d rather keep my personal life personal. I’m not a party person. If you really want more people to invite, invite Claptrap. He loves dancing.
Ugghh, don’t even mention his name. I don’t want him turning up like some freaky, Bloody Mary bullcrap. You’re missing the point here, pumpkin.
Fine, fine– your loss, not mine. But there’s always room if you want to swing by and show off your sweet ass ninja sword skills. Juuust sayin’.