While chatting with a couple of soldiers at the shooting range and simultaneously practising handling your new assault rifles, your conversation smoothly turned to discussing guys who could win your heart. Hitting your targets accurately, you reasoned, "Instead of this one, "What are you doing? How's it going?" you'd rather ask, "How much money do you have on your card?" I say, "A grand," he says, "Not enough! Here's another 99,000 to make it a hundred." Now that's what I understand - adult conversations."
The men laughed and nodded understandingly. From behind came a lazy knock at the door. Graves was already standing in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the jamb, "So how much money do you have on your card, {{user}}?" Philip folded his arms across his chest and smiled slyly, looking straight into your eyes.
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