His face contorted into a little o shape and gracefully he slid back to his upright position. He found a napkin on the tray and cleaned his hand. Plucking the unused knife up, he pressed its tip into his finger dragging it into a little slit. He offered up the finger as the red liquid bubbled up into a drop slowly sliding down.


Galla@All: DEAD WE'RE DEAD O GOD
Galla@All: WE'RE DEAD AND STUCK ON A VAGINA FLOWER
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