Angelo is rapidly deciding that Kansas is the best place ever. It's entirely possible that this is because of the post-coital glow that's still radiating around him after yesterday, and that he's gone through six cigarettes in the past twenty-four hours and every one of them has been as good as the one he'd lit up when he'd left the living room yesterday, still straightening his shirt.

He's so occupied with these thoughts, he almost doesn't notice the current contents of the living room as he passes down the hallway.



Actually, he absolutely notices because you don't miss half-naked hot girls lounging around no matter how much you've been getting laid lately.




He loves Kansas.