As they drink from your puddle, you raise the javelin and kill one. Then another. Finally, the leader of group looks up. He's aware that he is a mutant, and accepts his fate. The monster whispers thank you as you bring down the pike one last time.
Alone, surrounded by death and covered with blood, you are unsure of what to do. Why were you so passionate about being in the Olympics? Was it worth the life of five mutants and one pervert? No, of course not. You think about calling the police, but decide listening to Limp Bizkit would be better.
He has unlocked the secrets of the universe and seen beyond the mortal plane, yet Doctor Strange can't believe how easy it is to eat an olive.
You can realize that you’ve wasted the last few moments of youth at an occupation you hate or fool yourself into a numb compliance with one of these great excuses.
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