[Oh who the fuck is this now. Harding can't keep all of these guys straight. He has his aviators on, but the look on his face is an unimpressed one as he continues to stare straight ahead, raising the flask back up for another sip.]
Please get your hands off my window, [he says like he's reading from a script, loud enough to be heard through the glass.]
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Please get your hands off my window, [he says like he's reading from a script, loud enough to be heard through the glass.]