Build God, Then We'll Talk – Panic at the Disco
"Where the fuck are we?" Looking around the rancid motel room, although knowing exactly where they were, he felt the need to exclaim about the state of the place he'd been brought to.
"Somewhere I can fuck ya without wakin' up yer family."
"How nice it is to know you care." Turning to leave the room he was met by an arm blocking his way.
"So ungrateful. Ya wound me, Ichi. Now sit the fuck down and take off yer clothes."
"Why should I?"
"Ya don't wanna know what I hadda do ta get the money fer this." A quizzical brow was raised, met by the patented 'I had sex today' smirk.
"You're kidding."
"Jealous?"
Explanation: "The rooms have a hint of asbestos and maybe just a dash of formaldehyde" Then turned into crack. Grimmjow the Gigolo. Grimmolo? Yeah. "What a wonderful caricature of intimacy"