“You dragged me in there last night, demanding to be tramp stamped.” “I did?” “Yeah, you did.” “Well, it looks like you’re the one with the tramp stamp, bitch,” I cackled, slapping my palm down on his tender chest. “Hard luck.” “That’s what you think,” he grunted, shrugging me off and then draping an arm over his face. “Check your ass.”
