Somewhere, far off in the distance, Butch Jones just looked up as if he heard a ghost, frowned, and muttered to himself about "his charts" before remembering to cut the coffee machine off and hurry back to Nick.
I would suggest that you are simply a lemming, following your negative emotions around to come up with incredulous conclusions. I'm sure you'll be the first one in line to shake Pruitt's hand in a couple years, I do hope you drop to your knees and accept his forgiveness.
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