（ on the damn contrary, gene pulls out the plastic clothin' he'd been given at orientation from his musette bag that thank-the-lord came with him. he'd slit the platsic open along the seams carefully, deconstructed the whole garment an' then taped it all back together on the underside so's the adhesive wouldn't get eaten away at. he shoves the wadded up ball of plastic against jasper's chest with the authority only a battlefield medic can muster up. ）
no subject
Smartass. You ain't got enough faith in me.