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...ave you brought the necklace with you?" she asked.
"Yes, Nana. Now may I please have my guitar back?" You don't know the hell I went through to get this!
Sartana's red eyes hardened. "Show me the necklace."
Django reached into his pocket, and found…nothing. Looking down, he pulled the pocket inside-out, and it was empty.
"I forgot I must have put it in my other pocket," he said with a nervous chuckle. He reached down into the other one, pulled it inside-out, and that's when he saw it.
The two-inch hole.
In the bottom of his pocket.
He just stared at it. He had gone through the whole night, not even once checking on the necklace to see if he still had it.
"Well?" Sartana asked.
Django dropped to his knees. "FUCK NOOOOOO!" he screamed.
"Django!" Sartana hissed at his disrespect.
"No, I'm fucking serious!" he sobbed, his head in his bony hands. "You send me up there on dis shit-ass mission, come back, is a fuggin failure, bling still up there, makin' people do fuck knows what, bangin' one 'nother, is so fucked up! I tired of dis shit. I mean, shoot, man, das messed-up bo'sheet! I can't get da girl out my head, is so fuckin' wrong…"
Sartana just stared at him. "Well g...