Today I wrote a ridiculously high number of words on my short story about the
Machine of Death. It's pretty close to done, but crello made a suggestion that's making me consider an alternate ending. I was going to wrap it up tonight, but instead I've been here chatting with my roommate Mike, who may or may not be a bounty hunter.
Mike, in case you haven't met him, looks like this:

Hey ladies, do you want a piece of this action?
Next thought: Call me and I'll totally give you Mike's digits.
2 snappy comebacks:
When I first saw that picture I thought it WAS Mike, taken with a great camera. It took me a second to realize the mistake.
Your mom.
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