We weren't going to dress up, but then Corey invited us to his party in Vegas so we drove down and got a room. Our costumes were last minute, mine was obviously way less thought out than Rick's. He was a stock broker and I was his psychiatrist. (Appropriate, right?) He even had a suicide note in his pocket. He had quite the act to go along with it. He was popping pills (tic-tacs) all night. He thinks he's so clever.
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