The little Martian catapults into a burning volcano and welcomes the frightening burn of lava. He simultaneously plunges a poison tipped knife into his abdomen and inhales a greedy mouthful of methane.
“Are you done?”
He looks me dead in the eyes as he explodes in a mushy pile of green jelly.
He reforms next to me and screams. Loud.
He crack his knuckles, clears his throats and shakes my shoulders
"you need to learn how to punctuate your sentences."
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