Jack catches his hand--Ennis moves awful slow and clumsy when he's drunk--and pushes it lightly away. He runs his own hand over Ennis' side, resting it at his waist, and grins a little.
"You ain't gonna be in any kind a shape for chores tomorrow, bud."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-04-19 04:38 pm (UTC)"You ain't gonna be in any kind a shape for chores tomorrow, bud."