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It is the year 2021, the distant future. Marilyn Manson has joined Cameo. 200 orders have been made in the first 24 hrs, totalling over $10k, all under one name. The credit cards all process smoothly. Delivery takes 5 months. Finally, the last video arrives. I play them in succession. It takes nearly 14hrs. I cry out all of the moisture in my body. It is a painful death, but a noble one. My partners offer my mummy to Manson. He declines. They then sell the remains to an oddity museum. I am displayed prominently, along with my death certificate. It lists my cause of death as "severe dehydration due to/as a consequence of acute Marilyn Manson poisoning." Manson finds out. He is perturbed that they're technically trading on his name. He's even more bothered by the fact that he can't stop it. He solves the problem by purchasing my mummy. It is only then that he learns of my unnervingly specific will that requires more intimacy than he bargained for. Now he must choose between living with the demands of the dead and tempting a wrath from beyond the veil.
Looking for a third (victim, to get serial killer status).
Whose idea was it to allow smart dinosaurs to have discussions?
St Bartholomew, patron saint of leather workers, butchers, and hot flash sufferers.
Not sure if maximizing the mosasaurus would've led to fewer issues or more... 🤔