Layla was clean alright. And this fucking Spartan was dirty. Like the barbarians. They had no right being here. Well they could come for a visit but they shouldn't expect to be treated like a peer. They were tolerated guests. Patrick didn't care that this chode was twins with a Wolverine. Fuck him, that was his attitude.

Patrick didn't look at the guy once. Instead took the room in cheering. 

Drake

Spoken Word. Nobody else would do that. After this he'd go swing by the kitchen for a beer. He'd grab a 

tallboy

. He never drank a regular beer. The 12 oz can was a big psyop that convinced Americans that that pathetic size was the standard. But he knew better. Patrick knew that the pint was the actual standard. And he'd be drinking Tallboys to make up for his American brothers and sisters losses. He couldn't make up for all those negative four ounces across the country over time, but he'd damn well try. Damn well try.

When he got to the fridge the twin was there. The good one. "Another tall boy, Pat?" he asked.

Patrick pointed at him with his long finger. "You know it, mane."