I dreamt that I was working on some sort of psychology paper (like for college, I guess). It was an extensive and deeply analytic thesis on the idea that there are fundamentally two kinds of people in the world
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For consideration: if you try to tell me there's a third kind of person who mounts ejection under both seats with selectable triggering, I am going to push the button on your ejection seat
I'm the fourth kind of spy; the labels on the ejection seat triggers have been swapped.
(There is a sixth kind, of course, though in this case the car is not so much for super-spy work, but rather for clownery at the circus, and the ejection seat just keeps firing and firing and firing.)
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I'm the fourth kind of spy; the labels on the ejection seat triggers have been swapped.
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