About a decade ago, I let you borrow a CD of James Brown's greatest hits. You never gave it back. You never gave it back despite me asking you again and again to return the damn disc. Eventually, I gave up. I saw you the other night, and how the times had changed. You were fat, with a kid and loser husband, but wealthy beyond anyone's dreams. When I asked you about James Brown, you laughed and responded, "Wasn't that a funny part of our childhood?" Not to me, it wasn't: you denied me the pleasure of Brown's growls for such a long time and didn't have a problem with it. So I ask again: WHERE'S MY JAMES BROWN CD?
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