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Urge

‘I’ll have a Double Quarter Pounder,’ she said with a big grin. ‘With Cheese.’

I smiled back. ‘You know that’s a half pound of ground-up hound, right?’

Most people would get that I was joking, but she was different. She frowned. ‘It’s beef.’

I regretted my words. ‘I know that. I just…never mind. You want flies with that?’ I regretted those words more, but that didn’t stop me. ‘And a joke?’

She glared. Her nostrils flared. ‘This is the worst first date ever, Nate. I hate you. I thought you were cool, but you’re a tool.’ She gasped for air, looking a little startled at her own outburst.

Come to think of it, maybe I was doing alright. I let her continue.

‘You’re out of luck, out of time. Get fucked.’

‘Girl, you rhymed.’

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