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All I know is my gut says maybe.
If it doesn’t, dont blame yourself, Kif. We were doomed from the start.
*Kif, old man, I’ll be in the escape pod.
If that wicker chair I like survives the slaughter,
have it sent to my P.O. box.*
And while you’re at it show them the metal I won.
I can’t spell anything with these cards.
My instinct is to hide here in this barrel.
Like the wily fish
