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. . 。 。 .
. 。 ඞ 。 . • •
゚ Purple was not An Impostor. 。 .
' 1 Impostor remains 。
゚ . . , . .
“They’re just territorial!” So am I. Turns out, I am the more dangerous territorial animal, which makes this my territory. It can either leave, or die.
“They’re incredibly important and useful!” So is a neurosurgeon. If one walked into my backyard and started poking me with a needle angrily, I’d rock their ♥♥♥♥, too.
“They’re just little animals living their life.” Me too, homie. And part of the human life experience is running the fades of anything that attacks us.
“The chemicals on your skin confuse it!” See the earlier neurosurgeon example. I don’t care if I’m wearing Eau De Fightclub #7, you attack me, it’s on.
I offer the same rule to all animals, big or small: You wanna hang out near me, cool. You enter my home or attack me, you die. I don’t care if you’re a person, a spider, or two flies in a coat.