So there was I, minding my own business and doing the gentlemanly thing of alleviating people of their burdensome inventories. Everyone keeps complaining about stash space, so I thought I would be kind and help them out.
Hoarding is a problem.
I got the usual thanks by way of slurs and insults, it's our own special love language. "You bastard, i hope you die." Or "You Godd*mn rat mother---". Cute little quips here and there.
Then comes Beto. (Can't remember his full tag. I was too shooketh.) As he lay there dieing, he begged me to come closer to hear his final words.
This absolute monster says "I bet you drink your tomato juice hot."
I was stunned, offended. I was bismirched. In all my days as a ratstraction specialist, I have never been so woefully maligned.
The only way to drink v8, or any tomato juice, is right from the can, at room tempeture Beto you sick fuck.