That sort of reminds me of a dream I had a long time ago. Me and my cousin were going through town just killing anybody we saw. Eventually the Grim Reaper showed up and asked us to quit, but we took his scythe and cut him in half. We then continued our killing spree, now using the scythe, and we entered into a home for retired people. We began killing in there, and then as I went after one old lady, I realized that she was my grandmother, and that I couldn't kill her. Then I realized that the other older people there were probably other people's grandparents, and that all of the people we had killed that night were probably important to other people, and I started feeling extremely guilty. I didn't have much time to think about it though, because Newman from Seinfeld started chasing me through the woods.
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"She hated people who thought too much.
At that moment, she struck me as an appropriate
representative for almost all mankind." - Kurt Vonnegut Cat's Cradle
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