At this point, having an Alien impregnate me through forced intubation so that a baby alien can pop out of my chest, killing me immediately, would at least give me a sense of purpose.

I walked up to Matilda earlier and found myself saying, “Man, if ONLY enormous Cthonic tentacles would snake out of this frickin fog and snatch me, carrying me off to subject me to horrors beyond imagining – my day would be going SO much better.”

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