≪•◦ monopoly jail is hard tbh ◦•≫

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Y/n, trying to comfort Lloyd: What's the problem? Anxiety? Low self-esteem? Obsessive thoughts of random arson? I've been there.


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Y/n: I've been here in jail so long I think I've lost my mind.


Y/n: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months.


Y/n: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year?


Lloyd: This is Monopoly.


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Lloyd: Where are you going?


Y/n: Hell, eventually.


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Y/n: I've become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I've probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They're the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this?


Lloyd: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.


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Y/n: Lloyd! I thought you were dead!


Lloyd: No, just in deep cover.


Y/n: ...But it was an open casket.


Lloyd: It was very deep.


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