But Did You Die?

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Only on the inside. Still kicking. Not stoked about it. Any budding serial killers wanna take me out?

But wait until you’ve established your signature, at least. I wanna be the promising young writer targeted by the Scorpion Killer or some shit, not the random body that turned up in the power plant pond. You can kill me only if it means I get my posthumous fifteen minutes of fame. Shake on it.



Hey. It's Renee. Hope you're having a nice day. 

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