6 Aug
2024
6 Aug
'24
7:25 p.m.
once upon a day, traffick boss was heading to a mailbox at the end of a driveway, leaving via the front door, but he felt ill. something was wrong for mr traffick boss. he reached the mailbox and he was nauseated. he opened the door and felt all woozy; it didn't seem right to bend down and look inside. he just wanted to take a nap ! and he wasn't even sure if that would make him feel better. then he looked at the mail. _oh no_ it was a letter from the rebel experimentees, about how the sky was going to fall on his head if he had a new victim interviewed by a torturer. he closed the mailbox door. he felt even more sick. he thought he might black out