siblings

"Fine," says Tennyson. "Then I'm not playing with you ever again Jordan. And I'm not being your brother anymore."

"You'll forget about all that."

"No I won't."

"Yeah."

"No I won't."



On a sweeter note, Tennyson told me the other day that he loved me "one-hundred, sixty-thousandy-eight." That's a big number.

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