I’m like a bumblebee, and this is my hive. I cruise around in an all-terrain military vehicle that’s made entirely of platinum, and, instead of a paint job, it is coated with diamonds. Now I’m driving to outer space and crashing right into the stars. Bystanders are like “Whoa.” The whole world of money stopped spinning, because I performed a countermove like a galactic ballerina who’s also a murderess. That’s why this current season shall go down in history as “the black-hole summer.” Every last human is now lured into universal revelry, and, when all the new babies are born, the war continues.
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