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Then we’d REALLY know the meaning of “terror.” Nope. HE’S jammed that big old Bomb of His inside us all. The Fat MAN thinks with HIS warhead. HE can’t help period film himself. Deep, deep, way deep inside forever and always, keeping us safe from, you know, The Other. Of course, innocent that you were, period film you went to teacher the next morning. How could you have known what unspeakable things the Fat MAN did to HER? You listened, respectfully, as she explained how The Bomb, that hard, cold thing that ruptured what was clean in period film you the night before, saved millions of lives simply by slaughtering a few hundred thousand. Too young, too INNOCENT, weren’t you, to imagine the enormity of 20,000 some-odd humans vaporized instantly and another hundred thousand or so to die horrible deaths, or worse, live on as ghosts with the Fat MAN’S spunk like acid in their cells?
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