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Its hellish orange sucked all light and color from the room. You and your classmates stared in darkness, the same darkness in which you were all, yes even cute little Jack or Jill or whomever you had such a sweet, child crush on, felt the Bomb between his tight, butt cheeks, her raw, bald vulva. Even they were taken by the Fat MAN, who whispered, “Love me, love me,” humor to humor them too. Don’t feel cheap, used. Nobody’s special in HIS eyes. We’re all part of a team. One Nation under HIM. If you humor were lucky, Rod Serling helped you through your temporary confusion, so confident in his black suit and tie and holding his cigarette, leaving Burgess Meredith alone with broken glasses, a smoldering world, and piles and piles of obviated tomes… Anyway they, the worthless Jap citizens of Hiroshima and Nagasaki – they were the ENEMY, weren’t they?
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