I don't need that. No one needs that.
I kicked her in the shins once but I don't think she noticed the bruise what with the track marks, tatoos, and scratches up and down her jaundiced body. I also threatened to break her nose, but they threatened to kick me out. Since I needed to keep my job at PT, and that was contingent upon me completing rehab, I engineered a truce. I took to coming to the door wielding my whip, and did my hair up with my knitting needles. I guess she realized I was way cooler than her what with her propensity to walk around barefoot in the streets in her bra. We got along okay after that. I'm not sure whatever happened to her, although I do get the occasional postcard.
I don't think she's doing so well.
Anyway, fast-forward in time to TLAPD. This one mod (you KNOW who you are) and some members on Playthings got a little too full of themselves, and what with that and a ninja on the loose, I had a hell of a lot to handle. After all was said and done, the mods at Playthings kidnapped me while I was sleeping it off and were about to whisk me to an undisclosed location for rehab. Thank Saint Pleasant that Jiggy intervened and reminded them of the kindness I'd shown poor David Duchovny during his hour(s) of need.
Now personally, I don't think I needed rehab, but if they were going to make me go, I was going to go in style. And thus it was that David and I ended up as rehab roommates for a week, battling our respective addictions. I think, yeah, I'm pretty sure that I managed to distract him from his troubles. And me, well, honestly, I never needed to be there in the first place, but it was a pretty swank place and no one came banging on my door at 3 AM.
So all's well that ends well. While it took a few days to rid myself of pirate halitosis (totally rum and ale-induced), I'm back in fighting form now.
The clap and scurvy might take a little longer to cure.
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