One day there were these fab girls walking

One day there were these fab girls walking down the PMS hallway. All of a sudden, a new kid walked around the corner. Man, was he cute!

to get moving because all of a sudden the loud blare of the fire alarm attacked their ears. The pull of survival was just barely offset by the piercing blue eyes of the new kid.

Young and naive, the new kid gave away that he was shocked. They scrutinized the room searching for something or anything that could help them out of the mess. Fortunetly for

one of them moonlighted as a janitor at a local corrupt corporation establishment. Naturally it took three days and twice that amount of budget negotiations to get the job done.

All invested parties fled the conference room as though it was flooded with mustard gas. The imitation custodian reached under his standard issue jumpsuit into the pocket of his

undercoat and withdrew a bottle of windex. He started spraying it on the big table, shattering the illusion that he was a genuine custodian, but fortunately, not a single person

offered to help him. He wasn't sure if he could come up with a good enough excuse to give them if they did want to help. After all, how could someone explain the situation he had?

Even if someone, like you, could explain it were you morally required to explain it. Or could the case be made that the most moral outcome requires the daughter's murder in White C

City, inside the Magical Mystery tour, some two years later it would still be raining question marks. The erasure of memories after drinking the razzberry koolaid. Seriously!