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You and Astra stand in a small clearing. Fred is buried under a pile of
hastily-dug dirt.
Well, sort of. Against all sorts of laws, only his crotch is sticking out. Maybe this has something to do with the genie you briefly remember from some time back, or maybe you are sitting in a mental ward, hallucinating and making friends with the bright light behind the special, rubbery glass. Bugs buzz and chirp.
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10/3/2006 7:51:03 PM
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