Your laid back its mid afternoon, your in your sentry position for mailman creeping. All of a sudden, theres your bestfriend slowly inching up the block. But at the moment he doesnt stop at your box, you swear and curse the name of the vendor... He must be a lazy fuck. All is lost no hope left here, Still creeping on your boy though, just as he rounds the block to reach your neighbors across the street, he jumps out of the truck and starts jogging towards your box as if some invisible force is guiding them, then his arms come into view and whats he holding? Your fucking pack. My mothafuckin courrier!
yup, praying that that's what's going on rn...