Don't fight it, Spite It! You don't want to work with Luke when he doesn't get a lunch beer. He's not himself, and his unquenchable thirst propels him into a blind rage. Raised on Wu-Tang in the frigid streets of NW Minnesota, his blood is the coldest shit out there. One time we ran out of lunch beers. Luke snapped his skateboard. He ate a lit cigarette. He even punched Norm. No bueno. So, put a few in the cooler. It's time for a lunch beer.
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