Do you hear the thunder of their footsteps behind you? Hundreds, thousands of them, in ill-fitting uniforms, swearing in fictitious alien tongues, trying to catch you — but then what? Then what will they do? They aren’t really violent, are they? Are they? People like you have been giving them the business for too long and you picked the wrong premiere to make the wrong Klingon joke during closing credits, when emotions were already high. Maybe they’ll send the fattest amongst them ahead to sit on you, suffocate you, while the others turn away, talk about normal things, like conventions.
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Title by: En Lacy
Story by: Nick
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