I approach him and shove him backwards - he retreats/falls into the main opening of the abandoned defence post. I ask him again what year it is. He says 1944. I ask him again. He says 1945. I yell at him, over his answers, demanding repeatedly that he tell me what year it is. He responds with 1939, then 1963, then 1950, then 2000, then 2020, then 1991, crawling further back into the space and becoming distressed. I come closer and he appears to break down, screaming at me 'I don't know, I don't know’. I stop yelling and smack him across the face. He is visibly shaking and says ‘I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry, sir.’ I kick him in the gut and tell him that he will be sorry.
Holy shit, I love you. This is my jam! My moldy, disgusting jam.
Re: Fill: Make Your Puppet Dance 8/?
I approach him and shove him backwards - he retreats/falls into the main opening of the abandoned defence post. I ask him again what year it is. He says 1944. I ask him again. He says 1945. I yell at him, over his answers, demanding repeatedly that he tell me what year it is. He responds with 1939, then 1963, then 1950, then 2000, then 2020, then 1991, crawling further back into the space and becoming distressed. I come closer and he appears to break down, screaming at me 'I don't know, I don't know’. I stop yelling and smack him across the face. He is visibly shaking and says ‘I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry, sir.’ I kick him in the gut and tell him that he will be sorry.
Holy shit, I love you. This is my jam! My moldy, disgusting jam.