The stench of all the worst, sourest and most rancid farts ever let out by human behinds permeated the whole room. "Smells like someone shit his pants..." I told Angel."Uh oh, I don't like the looks of this," Angel murmured. "Be careful and get ready to duck, my little animated dildo. That smell ain't shit. It's brimstone." She waved her hands in the air and all the broken glass came together in the middle of the dance floor in a neat pile, just waiting for someone to sweep it up and toss it in a. Meanwhile, there were two scenarios that concerned us with regards to Hightower's buried compulsions: Someone being arrested or something happening to Hightower personally. Those were the two that we had actual events to point to indicating a subliminal response. We were actually only speculating about something happening to Hightower, but he seemed like the type who would want to take everyone down with him. In either case, whatever it was he had buried would have to be carefully crafted; you. More

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