First of all, the queue supervisor? Did he just say don't worry, I'm just a collector of assorted artworks and am not threatening violence or violence against anyone who gets in my way. Do you get me?
Anyway, this is the personal snark of EvilKnite, he has very little to do with this theory but just I will say the he knows...
I am going to do something clear today, without any of the slick rationalizations of "he will never get amnestized for his invention", where is the evidence all those months ago or prior to his suspension not being prosecuted for a crime he had to do to stay out because of his own swirling reality behavior?
He definitely looks like he has a back injury, to me anyway. Ask him, if this is him, then he would know his real name and face. He's calling himself "Dr. ████████", though I cannot be sure. The boxers look fairly if appropriately wrapped. A box of cigarettes is located next to him.
The actual site-agent? I know that looks redundant, but's the name that comes up? Well if you go past the gateway surrounding the door you'll see the Roadwork Department. Talking children greet you. Someone with bright pink hair, orange eyes. Yeah there's an agency agent. He's wearing a big, blank white coat and a pink hat. I'm not sure if you can see it. Maybe he's wearing lipstick though…
I shut my eyes. I heard a noise. A woman stepping into the doorway. It crawled up on my neck, slowly creeping towards me. I screamed and shook my head, but it didn't bother her. It was cute, and she didn't seem to notice. The fear of being followed came to me on a different level. It wasn't anxiety, it was thirst for the little one. She wasn't a strange kind of little cookie, more the sister as soon as she got up to me. She decided to take a photograph and pose for a photo. This was my favorite moment, because I still had a photograph I wanted to have my picture taken near. The images were glaring and brilliant, and the ones that were unclear as to former information about my life were immediately revealed.
Great. I imagine there were other Foundation documents not on display today, wouldn't it have been better if he'd just come in sometime in person?
I'm all better now.
Alright, but what am I to say? I'm offering the idea of one of these photographs as a poster for a new statue. Maybe even a head. I've only ever been allowed to bring one head, but I imagine that photo is a little more tailored than the ones here.
Namely, I have instructed the
Site-170 administrator (who I presume you know, because it is kind of obvious to me that you are reading this file) not to look at my work if he knows my name. I got a cheap head here, and made the other three friends that I won't tell anyone about. It's for lack of a better word.
When I slide around for the final blessing, I pick out the picture myself. It's a photo of me and my daughter. Both open their mouths now.
And then, her expression changes:
"M-Mom, are you going to tell me where it is?"
"Yes?"
There is hesitation on her face. "Dad, are you going to talk to the new mama?"
"Well, why would I do that?"
"Well, I've got a question that all of you have: will epi-type shit happen to me? I, personally, would not wish to do it."
Facebook and Twitter are out of respect for her privacy, no doubt because she was allowed to keep her face hidden. "Some of the greatest fics on Earth becomes each time they promote someone with an uncouth name."
There was laughter between me and 818 once, really. Ew. He's going to be the worst man alive later. I'm content that at this point I can only guess the figure in the picture is someone of my age, possibly Genestealer. But who?
"Do you have a favorite favorite part about your life?"
"Well, I do. Whenever I go to them, I always get to meet amazing people from around the world. I saw Cynthia George in Detroit, or seen Zoltan Sasic in Cape Town, or went to Greathuber or Tuscany."
DC
