Paul walked in looking disgruntled and... wet. He had a knitted brow and... a huge wet spot on his gray t-shirt. Matt was quick on the offensive, "What's up?"
He slid onto the barstool over looking the frozen ingredients settled in plastic containers illuminated by clean white lights. "I am having an awful day," a kiwi caught his eye and he looked upon it transfixed. It's green was too green. It looked too delicious. He must have it.
"What happened?" Matt continued asking as he washed his hands underneath the flow of Arizona aquifer water and above a chrome sink.
Snapping out of it, Paul looked up.
"So I was just in Moore's, thought I'd watch my weight and get a diet coke," Matt raised his eyebrow. Usually his friend didn't sound so--metro. "and the machine was so freaking excited to give me diet coke it jizzed carbonated water all over my clothes."
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