Citizens are assembled in Mexico. And I don't mean that they are demonstrating or something, they are built there.
Parts arrive from the far side of the border, Paradise, where the finished product as well as the junk is rushed asap to overflow the shelves of the malware state.
However, if you want to move your item, it has to take that detour to South. There's nowhere like day care. And Mexico is day care.
"Your infant should be baptized in the fountains of horror!" one minister (see: a Servant of the Lord) bellowed, while I was trying to sleep.
"Or else you can kiss your fort goodbye. Not to mention your old lady, those whining kids and your own skinny ass! Wasting all ammo on ghosts."
He lowered his voice a bit. "These people," he said, before becoming one with the vapors of the night.
"They are savages!"
@
It is quite a dangerous game, outsourcing the Evil is. In the end, you might drag a Monster out of its slumber. A different kind from the one you had in mind, but a beast just the same.
She said I should have told her. Told her what, exactly? That I'm a pervert and a degenarate? Oh, allegedly. That's the word that does wonders in these circles.
Get Mother of Goo converted, and I promise you, it's a date.
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