[Private]
I don't want your fucking goody-two-shoes God money anyway. Fucking saint. Why don't you mind your own fucking business?! Who even fucking asked you to help in the goddamn first place, huh? Go get shitfaced and fuck a stranger because god fucking knows that's all you're good for. Piece of shit.

It's like Wrath wrote out my inner monologue. Which is eerie, upsetting and unsettling all at once.

[Friends]
I could use a distraction so I don't end up at the pub.

Who wants to go bowling?!