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"You heard me Neanderthal! You're costing me money!"
Holy shot a glare at the man, his eyes narrowing as his brows knitted. "No, need to name call
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Old Man
..."
The bartender's brows rose at the insult, taking it harder than what the soldier seemed to take to his jeer. Holy continued, "I feel I've been doing a good job keeping the demons out of here."
The bartender scowled and pointed to
Bella Pericoloso. "Oh yeah? And what do you call that?"
Holy's eyes rolled over to the woman. "I call that not even within my league. Psh..." Biting into the turkey once more, he stammered between bites. "Just another butt-hurt little girl claiming to be the daughter of Satan. You know how many daughters of Satan I've seen? It's becoming a bad epidemic."
The bartender turned his back on the soldier as he grabbed a dirty glass and began stuffing a rag into it. "Yeah, well, that's your last plate so enjoy it."
Holy's brows shot upwards in shock. "What? I barely ate anything."
"You ate the amount of a party of six."-cont.-
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