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5/14/2025, 1:29:51 PM
"And, Charlotte, I'll tell you what. I'm serious about this. I am sick and fucking tired of men keeping secrets. Fucking tired. You know, it's— it's condescending, is what it is. Only they know what's best. Only they can control everyone else's fucking reaction. What if he was a rapist? Huh? What if he got tossed down here because he stuck his finger up a little kid's ass? I just—"
She sees you reddening. "Oh, shit. Sorry. Forgot you're prissy. What if he... deflowered... a little girl's... butt blossom? Same idea. Nobody would want to fucking talk to him ever again, and that should be their fucking right. I don't keep my embarrassing shit a secret at all. I let people draw their own conclusions. But these sons-of-bitches..."
You have a feeling she means more than just Monty. "Um, I— I get it. Richard kept a lot of secrets too. Or just lied. He actually mainly just lied to me."
"See? Fucking men! Also, I could've told you that. He doesn't exactly give off, uh, warm fuzzies."
"If he counts as a man. I think snakes are sort of all the... same." You'd rather not think about it too hard. "I guess he counts. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you're a fucking awful listener? You would've bitched me out for it. In any case, sure, that's another for the pile. You got any others?"
Henry? But he did give it to you straight. Horse Face counts, but he doesn't seem worth mentioning. Gil... "Not Gil. He doesn't have any secrets."
"None? He's so fucking cagey. You're sure about that?"
"Yes." Completely. You saw all of them, and he let you draw your own conclusions, which were: they weren't important. You trusted him. And he stayed, and it worked out.
"Damn. I hope you're right. You got a decent guy on your hands, I think. Weird little guy, but decent. And, let me tell you, it is hard as shit to find a decent guy, so don't ditch him."
"I'd never ditch him," you say righteously.
"Good."
"But..." Not about Gil. Somehow the topic got away from what you actually wanted to know. "...what did you think? Not about Monty keeping the secret, but, um, about the secret. Whatever he told you."
"That? I mean, I already knew half of it. The Game shit is public. He— I mean— his face isn't different, and he's not any older, and it's been, what, a decade? Less? What I hear, he was all over the papers, and if you're from where he's from you're gonna remember. I've been working my ass off telling people to fuck off with autographs. I tell them he'll murder them with his pitchfork or whatever if they ask. I think it mostly worked." She rubs the inside corner of her eye. "The other stuff was new, but I don't know what the big deal was. He killed some people? Newsflash, like, 60% of the guys down here killed some people."
"I think it was more of a scale thing?"
(2/5)
She sees you reddening. "Oh, shit. Sorry. Forgot you're prissy. What if he... deflowered... a little girl's... butt blossom? Same idea. Nobody would want to fucking talk to him ever again, and that should be their fucking right. I don't keep my embarrassing shit a secret at all. I let people draw their own conclusions. But these sons-of-bitches..."
You have a feeling she means more than just Monty. "Um, I— I get it. Richard kept a lot of secrets too. Or just lied. He actually mainly just lied to me."
"See? Fucking men! Also, I could've told you that. He doesn't exactly give off, uh, warm fuzzies."
"If he counts as a man. I think snakes are sort of all the... same." You'd rather not think about it too hard. "I guess he counts. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you're a fucking awful listener? You would've bitched me out for it. In any case, sure, that's another for the pile. You got any others?"
Henry? But he did give it to you straight. Horse Face counts, but he doesn't seem worth mentioning. Gil... "Not Gil. He doesn't have any secrets."
"None? He's so fucking cagey. You're sure about that?"
"Yes." Completely. You saw all of them, and he let you draw your own conclusions, which were: they weren't important. You trusted him. And he stayed, and it worked out.
"Damn. I hope you're right. You got a decent guy on your hands, I think. Weird little guy, but decent. And, let me tell you, it is hard as shit to find a decent guy, so don't ditch him."
"I'd never ditch him," you say righteously.
"Good."
"But..." Not about Gil. Somehow the topic got away from what you actually wanted to know. "...what did you think? Not about Monty keeping the secret, but, um, about the secret. Whatever he told you."
"That? I mean, I already knew half of it. The Game shit is public. He— I mean— his face isn't different, and he's not any older, and it's been, what, a decade? Less? What I hear, he was all over the papers, and if you're from where he's from you're gonna remember. I've been working my ass off telling people to fuck off with autographs. I tell them he'll murder them with his pitchfork or whatever if they ask. I think it mostly worked." She rubs the inside corner of her eye. "The other stuff was new, but I don't know what the big deal was. He killed some people? Newsflash, like, 60% of the guys down here killed some people."
"I think it was more of a scale thing?"
(2/5)
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