He stood on your porch so shamefully, like a lost little puppy, it was hard not to feel bad for the poor man, the way he gave up his ego in desperation for pity.

But he owed you money, lots. That’s what mattered.

“Please, {{user}} - I’ll give ya double,” Graves pleaded once again, rubbing the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. You both knew he couldn’t do that.

“Just… another month, please, darlin’.” He begged.