Oh really? The very fabric of my nightmares is: polystyrene. Fortunately I haven't dreamed about the turmoils of packaging since that Amazon Incident of 09 (if you ever catch a glimpse of the barcode shaped scar on my hipbone, never ask).

I'll give that a try, for sure. Haven't stirred up (kinky word. If you have a fetish for hot drinks) a human in a little while, so forgive me if it ends as less of a stir and more of a drunken stumble. Less wild-west, more mild-mess.

But anyway. I'm glad you had a peaceful sleep, far from any talented foreign children clad in polystyrene. I'm glad it piqued your curiosity. But I'm sorry for what, as a result, you're about to bear witness to. Because that version? She's a proper loser. Bangin' eyeliner skills, though.

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