“Nobody’s chains are shinier than mine,” he thought to
himself, “and with my brushed teeth, that gold cap is just as bright.”
He ran a comb through his hair, ensuring it was slicked
back to irresistible perfection, before running the comb through his mustache,
ensuring it too was bringing it’s A game to the evening. He opened is linen
shirt in the front, because only he was baller enough to let all that chest
hair show for the ladies, and they would know it. He looked in the mirror and,
being pleased with his appearance, Chad Baggett hit the clubs.
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