Peter Vermaat was a pretty impeccable friend. He lived for people; his greatest joys came from making other people laugh. He lived for rolled eyes and deep sighs. He loved careening through the backroads of Port Crane and joyously wrecking havoc. He hated being called pickle, even though the bastard clearly liked pickles. I can speak for every one who knew him when I say that He was a crafty sum'bitch who couldn't be trusted. And he will always be missed

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