I told your bitch ass that I would get you two days ago when I first saw you. You thought if you just laid low and buzzed around someplace else that I'd forget? This is a studio apartment, motherfucker, where you gonna hide? And then I walked into the bathroom and saw you sitting there on the mirror, like you fucking owned the bathroom.
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Did you think that you and I had some sort of understanding? Did you think that because I let you live for the last 48 hours that I'd given the bathroom to you? Well what you think now?
It didn't have to go down this way. I'd have let you just leave and never come back, but that wasn't good enough for you, and now you've paid the price. I saw you sitting on that bathroom mirror and I just knew that your time had run out. I grabbed the Verizon 118 Cool Ways to See, Hear and Share DSL Every Day from the desk, where I'd left it just waiting for you to show yourself again.
I walked back into the bathroom and BAM! I made it quick, because it wasn't personal, it's just business. I can't have a fucking fly living in my apartment with me like we're equals on the food chain. You want to fly around the garbage cans outside, that's one thing, but this is my place here. I thought about leaving your dead body out for any of your fly buddies to see as a warning, but I don't want any trouble from the cops, and like I said, it's just business.
this is in or around Hell's Kitchen