Jesus, what time is it?

Perhaps the better question would be why are you not wearing pants.

It’s more comfortable. And it’s hot.

Can you at least remember your name?

I’m tired; I neither woke up from a coma after thirty years nor did I step into a portal that shreds all my clothes. Of course I remember my fucking name.

Shame. I always wanted to see if those portals really worked. Oh, and it’s almost midnight. This is the Internet; you’re safe here.

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