Sorry, Tom Jones.

You step off of him and he gets up, indignant. You try to follow him as he walks away, but as you tap him on the shoulder he hisses in your face, then hovers in the air for a few seconds in a kung-fu pose. He finally decides to vanish in a puff of purple smoke, leaving you alone in a poppy field, remarkably naked.

Written by an anonymous author

Water!

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