When poets were POETS.
Just another Saturday night in Lacoria City…
Garak: *calling Parmak from a police station* I’m telling you, his work was derivative! I can’t let Tain catch word of this, Kelas, you have to help me.
Parmak: I’m not posting your bail this time, you never paid me back from before.
Garak: I said I’d owe you a favor!
Parmak: Ah, well here’s the favor then… suffer *hangs up on him*
Fucking solid gold addition.









