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... simply unbearable to my ears.
Add to it a constant inflection of blatant patronization, and you got yourself the vocal equivalent of sharpened fingernails against old chalkboards. Even then, I think I’d prefer the chalkboards over this guy.
Squeaky and shrill as they were, at least they weren’t such conniving, cunning bastards, were they?
Ash’s real name funneling out of his smirking lips, marred by the same sourness and dourness that came with, it felt like an assault on ...
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