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The faint smell of tar. Cement bricks glance off your shoulders. Gamma rays encircle your frontbody. You are a dancing snake: your charmer, Judge Judy's mystical doppleganger. She’s come out with a new hypnosis, enticing you to swallow the landfill. She strikes a major multiphonic chord and you pass out. The next day you tell your coworkers, ‘oh, this weekend?, I was mostly watching TV'.
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