“Nothing to say, oh Great One? Come on, Scourge of Mexico!” Adam called. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. I’m about to incinerate your ass.” Rogan glanced at him. “It’s your party. You’re wearing the tiara. Try to be a gracious host.” Adam’s face flushed. “Fuck you!” He stabbed his index finger in our direction. “Fuck you, man. Fuck both of you.” “Kids these days.” Mad Rogan shook his head. “No manners.”
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