Meet Jacques
Jacques Schiraff.
He is french.
He speaks english with a (h)eavy french accent, smokes a lot of cigerettes which makes his voice deep and hoarse.
Jacques has suicidal tendenseese. Out of nowhere he becomes depressed. Then he says:
- I kill myself.
He has his good days too though. Then he wants to kiss. A lot!
- I want to kissss you, he says. Then he puts his head very close to mine.
- I kiss you! He says in a very demanding tone. And if I don't want to kiss (Jesus he can go on all day) his demanding tone becomes evil and he starts to whisper.
- Kiiiiiis me!
If I refuse, he wants to kill himself.
We have many short conversations like this.
- Why am I here Jacques?
- Because you are...
- yeah but what is the deeper meaning with my existence?
- Well eeeh... I dønt nø - I ‘m a Schiraff - kiss meeeee.
I like my new best friend.
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