When I was fifteen, I developed these small lumps on my
wrist. They were maybe the size of buckshot, just larger than a pinhead. I showed
them to the doc when I went in for my foot after Bobby dropped that tree trunk
on it, and she said it was probably nothing serious.
So I ignored them, although they stuck around for years,
until finally, after Bobby ran his car over my other foot, I brought it up
again with a doc.
He got all curious and cut one open.
And that was the start of the Death of Humanity.
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