“They should thank me,” Jrrru says proudly, as if he’s not a sweaty mess on my floor with bread crumbs in his whiskers. “If it wasn’t for me throwing his ident badge into the wild on some drunken bender, they would have never met.” “It sounds like an absolutely shitty thing to do. You shouldn’t be proud of that.” “I was drinking.” “So that gives you the right to be an absolute monster to everyone around you? I had no idea that was how alcohol worked. My bad.” He’s silent.
