lt;pgt;American pros

On the bare wooden walls of the living room, two yellowed posters were pasted.,Elena stood tall, her bleached-blonde hoodie stretched to comical heights: "Good. Get a job. I don't want to feed you slackers another week. I have two little kids to raise, and can't afford to keep you.",Martin was just about to ask a question, then he remembered that this house belonged to James Carter. "Your uncle died eight years ago," he said, "from eating the wrong flour."。