[ Sweet on Molly is nice, a sweet slap to the senses straight from the glass is too much for this basic bitch of a half-orc and his beer. Once the fun of lunch is out of the way and everyone is prepping to leave, he finds Molly in the back yard where they had the barbecue the night before. The memory of the first half of the evening is wonderful, the latter ... Not so much, understatement of the century.
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He folds his arms, leaning in the doorway. ]
Because Uk'otoa is a shithead with a deathwish?