“Oh, no… I mean, yes of course you deserve… I didn’t mean to…” Bob nervously opened his wallet.Oh god, Bob… why would you ever talk back...to a black man like that… Bob reached into his wallet and took out six hundred and fifty dollars, and then two extra Benjamin Franklins.“Ehm… Do you mind if I… gave you an extra two hundred… I… I…” Bob nervously looked up at the black man whom he had obviously offended.“Yeah… okay.” The black man nodded with a powerful look on his face.“Th… thank you.” Bob. Tom was a fat guy with a long ponytail of brown hair."Hey, man," Karl said, shaking my hand. "Killer house. How the fuck did you swing this?" I won a poker tournament," I said. "Hey, Tom." Hey," he grunted. Tom was a man of few words most of the time. But he really got into roleplaying his characters and could be a down right chatterbox if he was playing the right character.I led Tom and Karl inside. Quatch was sitting in a recliner getting blown by Willow. His head was thrown back and his. More

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