Barry felt like he had stuffed a stained chiffon dress between his legs.
Ajit picked up on his friend’s discomfort immediately.
“Don’t tell me something’s wrong with your coney.”
“Hell no,” Barry said, “these are the finest foodstuffs known to man.”
“You didn’t look happy.”
Barry lifted the metal canister of napkins.
“Every time we’re here, we go through hund…
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