Chapter Twenty Four
The familiar voice pierced the wax proof paper covering over its glass jar with the knife it cautiously kept strapped to its ankle. With a mighty tear it slashed at the paper and created a hole large enough that it could pull itself through. It might be conservative and it might be boring but it had managed to keep Timothy McGee
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"Hey you. Get the hell out of my subconscious!”
*is in hysterics*
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