Escape!

I'm completely done with this place. First I find out that there's no wet bar, but then I realize that there isn't even a fuckin' pool. I mean, shit, I'm all for roughing it out, you know, two hookers instead of four and all that, but this is insane. Richard Simmons doesn't live this bad, and he's got shorts that look like they're actively sawing his ass cheeks apart.

I played it cool for a while, just chillin', but as soon as the people who live here went to work, I broke in and grabbed some food.

Oh, by the way, thanks for drinking Natty Light, fucktards. What, you can only afford beer made for the homeless and minorities?

Shit, there's my cab.

Sha-zam!

Wait...You know what? I did stay in their yard for a while. I should probably write them a note or something.

That's better.

To the gas station!