1798, New York City...

I was strolling through New York with Philip when I saw a familiar place, the bar where I met my friends. Philip and I went inside. I quickly asked how old my own son was. 19. We sat at the bar and heard the door slam shut. "HERCULES MERRYLAN!" Hercules fuckin' Merrylan! "Marquis De Lafoot!" Lafoot as well. I expected Larcen, but... Curry walked in several minutes later, and stopped after he saw us. I whisper to Philip just to follow along. We had a good time but then Philip had to study for some upcoming test. Shortly after, we went home.

Shoutouts to GoldsberryDiggs, -JohnLaurens-, America_The_Geeky for keeping me motivated and being good inspiration!