bat shit! the demon bunny mask. that was to be mine, and yours the gas mask and cowboy hat, holding a type writer. behind us, the car, battered, ribbon clad, and endlessly in the distance: the life leeching abyss of death valley and the smoldering remains of a fire, charred rags, barbed wire, something sinister.
Don't forget, you had the crowbar. How is Shadowfax these days?
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